


Slayers: Fallen Stars Part II: Good Old Fashioned Festival Fun

by Neptune_Butterfly



Category: Slayers (Anime & Manga), ロスト・ユニバース | Lost Universe (Anime)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, First Kiss, Making Out, Novel & Manga References, Post-Slayers Revolution/Evolution, Puppy Love, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff, Story Arc, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-21 09:58:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14282460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neptune_Butterfly/pseuds/Neptune_Butterfly
Summary: The Spring festival has started, which means a chance for new friendships and romance to bloom!  Torrin and Gourry sign up for a fighting tournament along with a new kid with some skills.  A mysterious female warrior also signs up.  Xellos reappears after an extended absence to find a lovesick Filia.  Torrin begins to second-guess his decision to not get involved with Filia, but is afraid of opening up to her about his past.  Lina wonders about where she stands with Gourry (romantically, of course!).  Also, a strange entity invades the tournament as it draws to a close.  With thoughts of Dark Star briefly shoved to the back of everyone's minds, relationships take a step forward (or back).A bit of a spoiler warning: There’s a story I summarized from some of the novels that I believed was important to repeat in one of my chapters, since the novels are so hard to find anyway.  I’ve never read them myself.  This information I managed to get from a great online resource and thought it would be a neat little thing to tie into my story, just so you know.And yes, it is important to the plot of the story.  I also tweaked it a bit at the end to make it work for me.  You’ll see what I mean eventually.





	1. Good Old Fashioned Festival Fun Part I

# ~* SLAYERS: FALLEN STARS *~

## Chapter 8: Good Old Fashioned Festival Fun Part I

A beautiful day dawned as the entire city rose up to begin three days of revelry.

For every local merchant and artist, this event was what would make or break their businesses for the first half of the year. Many others from out of town either joined forces with local businesses or came to compete with them. The competition was mostly friendly all around as many over the years have become great friends, so the atmosphere of the festival was generally free from animosity. The unspoken rule was you were not there to make your competitors look bad, only to make yourself look better.

Up and down main street and the sides streets leading to the commercial quarters of the city, countless shops and booths decked out in bright Spring colors sold everything from necessities like food, weapons, and clothing, to more frivolous things like sweets, pottery, jewelry and other accessories. There were musicians on every busy corner where random dancing sometimes broke out.

Numerous games and auctions took place on the West end of town, while on the East side, where most out-of-towners entered the city and close to the restaurant district, the stages for performances and more dancing were set up. The town theatre, which could hold nearly the entire population, was reserved for larger evening performances. Major contests were held near the town square, where there was enough room for races and mock combat.

The town mayor officially declared the start of the festival at the East Gate at mid-morning, followed by a march to the West Gate with musicians and performers and citizens dressed in costumes and wacky colorful clothing waving flags and flowers.

For Filia and her girls, their day started at four in the morning when the out-of-town artists who paid her to keep their wares at her place showed up. By nine o’clock, all of them had cleared out, everyone was dressed, and Jillas had everyone’s breakfast ready. The store opened half an hour later.

On the first day, most of the customers were merely assessing potential purchases, so most of the girls’ time was spent on describing their pieces to them. Gravos was stationed behind the counter and Jillas was on cooking and hatchling duty, as usual, while Filia bustled about greeting and talking to potential buyers.

Lina and Gourry went about town taking in all the festivities. There was so much to see, it made Lina’s head spin. She promised not to go overboard on the food, as she could eat at Filia’s for free, so she slowly went through the booths, scouring for interesting objects that might have potential magical value. Gourry occasionally broke away to look at weapons and try to find a good sword or at least a good blacksmith to take in his current one. It was far better than the plain swords he had in the past, but it was due for maintenance.

Torrin was left to himself. He mostly visited the neighbors he came to know well over the past month and wandered around the city, never really stopping to look at anything for very long. He stayed away from Filia’s shop, even for lunch. He did not even stick around for breakfast, or to see what crazy costume Filia and the girls were going to wear.

He felt terrible about last night.

Torrin had paced around his room for a good hour wondering if he made the right decision in not getting involved with Filia. Though she was very young, that was not a problem. Filia was just barely of age but mature enough to make her owns decisions.

The problem was her unique situation, or so he kept telling himself. In the back of his mind, he could not decide if it would be more uncomfortable for Filia or for him over time. Torrin played a well-disciplined diplomat, but he had an interesting reputation concerning dragonesses.

He had gone through only two formal courtships, which was a rather small number for a Dimos dragon. The first was very proper but devoid of any real feelings, and the second was his first real love. It was broken off when the dragoness caved in to the pressure of her parents, but not before they overstepped an important court rule: never become intimate before making a formal commitment.

A formal commitment was not necessarily a marriage, nor was it considered permanent, but it put a couple in a recognized position in a clan and gave them the right to become engaged and eventually marry. The failed courtship jaded Torrin and broke his heart.

His later relationships were more clandestine involving dragonesses who either did not want to participate in courting or recently came out of a formal committed relationship. His diplomatic skills made it easy to attract unattached dragonesses, and Torrin found that he rather liked their attentions. However, he never let it get in the way of his job, which was easier said than done, especially now.

He had taken to Filia from the start, and his respect for her was already greater than any he held for other dragons, with very few exceptions. She was different, nothing like the more ‘refined’ dragonesses he would often encounter as an emissary.

Torrin said it to himself many times. If it were not for Lina’s account of her first encounter with Filia, and Filia’s own admission, he would have thought she had never lived with dragons.

Which brought him back to his original concern: Take Filia away to be closed off from the rest of the world once again or leave her vulnerable without the advantageous protection of a clan. Their growing affection for each other would only make things harder, but what if he went ahead and gave in? How would Filia react to finding out his immoral past?

Lost in his brooding, Torrin wound up at a make-shift armory, mindlessly examining the axes and maces.

Gourry happened to be at the same booth and noticed him after thanking the merchant for pointing out a decent blacksmith. “Mr. Dragon! Hey! I thought we lost you!”

Torrin looked up from the assortment of small axes he could tell came from the North close to where he was from. “Hello, Gourry.” He searched the surrounding area. “Where’s Lina?”

“I don’t know.” Gourry scratched his chin. “The last I saw her, she was looking at some jewelry.”

 _Good. The last I need is to be inundated with her questions._ Torrin knew Lina would have caught on that something was not right between him and Filia, and the first person he figured she would go after was him, of course.

“We missed you at lunch,” said Gourry. “That Jillas sure knows how to cook!”

“I guess I lost track of time. Sorry about that, Gourry,” said Torrin.

“That’s okay,” Gourry piped. “I just wanted to tell you about a contest they’re holding tomorrow. They’re asking anyone who can fight with a weapon to sign up at the town square.”

Torrin smirked, feeling a little better now. He looked forward to taking out his frustration. “Sounds interesting. Did you sign up yet?”

“Of course! I have to make sure my sword is ready by tomorrow though. They start at noon,” Gourry said, patting the hilt of his sword.

“Then I hope we get a chance to spar with each other.” Torrin held out his arm.

“I sure hope so.” Gourry smiled grabbed his arm.

Behind them, they heard a young boy arguing with the merchant. “I _said_ I want to buy a sword! What part of that don’t you understand?!”

“Look kid, I can’t sell you anything without a parent’s consent,” the merchant said in a tone he must have used a thousand times with unruly customers.

“But I can’t fight without a proper sword!” the boy whined.

The boy had unruly short brown hair but was fairly well dressed. His pouting face made the freckles on his nose stand out even more.

Gourry walked over to him. “Hey there. Are you going to fight in the contest tomorrow?”

“I would, if this big jerk would let me buy a sword.” The boy glared at the merchant who silently glared right back, armed crossed in defiance.

“Hmm, you must be very skilled for your age if you’re thinking of entering such a dangerous contest.” Gourry glanced over at Torrin with a sly smile on his face. Torrin set himself back to watch the fun.

“Of course if have skill!” The boy puffed out his small chest and put his hands on his hips, looking rather proud. “I’m almost eleven!”

“What’s your name?” Gourry asked.

“Its Jean,” the boy answered.

“Okay Jean. Why do you want to enter the contest?”

Jean crossed his arms. “Its personal.”

“I see.” Gourry played along. “I’d like to see what you can do. Do you have anything to fight with?”

“I have a cutlass.” Jean pulled it out from beneath his cape. “It’s not a very good sword though.”

Gourry held his chin. “Actually, that may just the right size for you.”

“Really?” Jean raised a brow in doubt. “Its old and not very big, and I know my opponents will be a lot taller than I am.”

“Bigger isn’t always better. And besides, it best to fight with a weapon you know very well,” Gourry suggested.

“I guess…” Jean’s head went down. “But I don’t think I can win with this,” he said referring to his sword.

“Why is winning so important to you? It’s just a contest,” Gourry egged him on.

“But I _have_ to win!” Jean said urgently, his dark green eyes filled with determination. “I have to! Or else…” he trailed off.

“Or else…what?” The swordsman knew he was getting close. It was either the boy wanted to prove himself or impress a girl.

“I won’t…be able to…to…” Jean lowered his eyes to the stone beneath his feet. His lower lip began to quiver. “If I don’t do this…I can’t…I can’t…face…her.”

“So, it’s a girl then?” Gourry smiled, almost sympathetically. He understood Jean’s feelings very well.

“It’s not just _any_ girl!” Jean looked back up at him, more determined than ever. “She’s the best! And not just because she’s pretty either! Nobody is as kind as she is!”

“Is that so? May I take a look at your sword?” Gourry asked.

Jean hesitated for a moment, taking another good look at the stranger, but seeing that the man did not look shady, he gave Gourry his cutlass.

Gourry inspected the sword. It was nicked up pretty good, but the handle was sturdy and the blade surprisingly well balanced. He guessed it was originally used by someone who traveled by sea often. The old leather and metal on the handle showed signs of constant exposure to water, though the blade had been well kept in the past.

“All your sword needs is a little touching up.” He handed it back to Jean. “Who did it belong to?”

“It was my father’s, before he died.” Jean answered. “He taught me how to use it.”

“I’m going over to a blacksmith to get some work done on my sword. We can go together and see if they’ll take yours too,” Gourry suggested. “It’ll be on me.”

“Well, okay,” Jean agreed. “But I’m paying for it myself. I’m not poor!”

“That’s fine with me.” Gourry finally turned back to Torrin who had been watching with great amusement. “Want to come with us, Mr. Dragon?”

"Go on ahead. I think I’ll head over to the square to sign up.” Torrin was always amazed at how well the swordsmen handled children. _His memory also seems to improve when he talks to one too._ That thought made him laugh inside.

Jean did a double take when Torrin spoke. “Say, I’ve seen you over at Miss Filia’s. Are you that dragon guy?”

“Yes, I guess that’s me,” said Torrin, a little surprised.

Jean quickly walked over to him and pulled out a folded piece of paper that looked like a letter. “Can you deliver this for me?”

Torrin took the piece of paper and saw that a name was written on one side. “Miranda?”

“She lives next door to Miss Filia in the tailor shop,” said Jean. “Can you make sure she gets it today?”

“I will.” Torrin smiled reassuringly.

“Good.” Jean walked back over to Gourry and turned back to Torrin once more. “Don’t forget,” he warned.

With that, he left with Gourry to find a blacksmith. Torrin looked back at the letter in his hand. _Looks like I have a reason to go by Filia’s now._

~~~~~

It only took about twenty minutes to weave through the gaily dressed crowds to make his way back. He happened to look into the large storefront windows of the shop as he passed and noticed Filia talking to a customer.

Filia was not kidding when she said her costume was colorful.

Her skirt was in the shape of a tulip in royal blue and a deep purple underskirt with the front open enough to reveal the lower part of her legs. She had bright yellow-orange stockings and red ankle boots and a green lace-up top with detached puff sleeves making her look like an upside down flower. Filia had left her hair down but with a braid on either side mixed with small ribbons of all colors and a wire crown made of fake flowers and yet more ribbons falling down her back.

Torrin watched her for a good five minutes until she was done talking, then she glanced over to where he was standing.

Filia caught his eye before he walked off.

He could not face her yet, but he promised himself not to keep avoiding the inevitable. Torrin knew he will have to talk to her again if he did not want the remainder of his stay to be awkward. There had to be a point where they could just move on.

 _It doesn’t help that I think she’s beautiful in anything she wears,_ he thought as he walked over to Mrs. Gillet’s tailor shop next door.

Inside, he saw a dozen of the owner’s daughters bustling about, taking measurements and orders. He did not bother any of them, just looked around until he found an older slender woman moving some merchandise in the back who could have passed off as one of the girls were not for the small streaks of grey in her dark brown hair. Her own costume was of a similar design to Filia’s but was in the shape of a multicolored daisy instead.

“You look lovely, Miss,” Torrin said sweetly from behind.

Mrs. Gillet popped up from moving a crate on the floor and twirled around. “Torrin!” she said brightly, “I’m so glad you decided to drop by! What do you think of the festival so far?”

“Loads of fun,” he half lied. If it were not for his frame of mind at the moment, he would have been able to enjoy himself a lot more.

“Good, good. Are you sure you don’t want to borrow one of my costumes? Although,” Mrs. Gillet pointed to what Torrin was wearing, “You still seem to fit right in,” she smiled.

Torrin rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes, compared to everyone else, I do look a little outlandish, don’t I?” He quickly changed the subject. “Actually, I’m here to deliver something to one of your daughters.”

Torrin took out the folded letter, handing it to Mrs. Gillet.

“Oh, one of my girls?” She turned the letter over. “Miranda,” she read.

“It’s from a boy named Jean,” said Torrin.

~~~~~

Gourry and Jean headed over to the town square to sign up after dropping off their swords. Jean received a dirty look from the man taking names, but there was no age limit, so he put the boy’s name down on the list wishing him a good beating to teach him some sense. Gourry pulled Jean away when he started throwing insults at the man.

They were making their way to a refreshment stand nearby when a girl about Jean’s age with strawberry blonde braided hair and a costume that looked like an upside down pink rose came running down the street with a piece of paper in her hand, looking very upset.

“Uh oh, I didn’t think she’d come after me.” Jean hid behind the clueless Gourry who was in line for drinks.

“Jean! You idiot!” the girl yelled. “Do you _want_ to get yourself killed!”

“Who’s the girl?” Gourry asked.

“It’s Miranda, you doofus!” Jean snapped.

Miranda chased Jean around Gourry’s legs. “If you think this will impress me, _you’re dead wrong!_ ”

“Hey, wait a minute! I have nothing to do with this!” Gourry pleaded.

“I’m serious, Miranda! I won’t back out! I’ve already signed up!” Jean ducked numerous times as Miranda tried to grab on to him.

“You’re so _insensitive!_ Do you really think I’d enjoy watching you get hurt on _my_ behalf?! I hate watching people fight each other! You should know that better than _anyone!_ ”

“But it’s the only thing I can do! I’m not good at anything else!” Jean tripped over his own feet and face-planted into the stone street.

He quickly raised his throbbing head anticipating he would have to run for it again, but Miranda simply stood in front of him looking down, her dark blue eyes watery with unshed tears.

She crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it at Jean’s face. “If it’s all your good at, then don’t expect me to be there.”

Miranda picked up her skirts and stomped off back the way she came leaving Jean on the ground where he fell. Gourry saw that he was also close to tears.

“It looks like she really cares about you,” he said as he crouched down to Jean’s level.

“How do you figure?” Jean rubbed his nose, trying to stifle a sob. “You heard what she said.”

“Why would she not care if she said she didn’t want to see you get hurt?” Gourry asked.

Jean slowly picked himself up and put the balled up letter in his trouser pocket. “Because that’s the way she is. She would say that about anybody.”

“But she came all the way here to find you,” Gourry said as he stood back up. “You really scared her.”

“But I didn’t want to scare her!” Jean contested. He looked in the direction Miranda went. “I just…” His head fell.

“You want to show you can protect her,” Gourry finished.

Jean nodded dejectedly. “Like I said. I don’t know how to do anything else but fight. So…” He lifted his head up to Gourry, his green eyes still fighting back tears. “I want to fight for her.”

Gourry smiled at him. “I can understand. I’m in the same position.”

“You are?” Jean asked.

“Yup! And she’s got quite a temper herself.”

~~~~~

At the shop, Filia was doing everything she could to put last night out of her mind. She did fine, until at lunch Lina had to point out she had not seen Torrin since the day before. Filia excused herself from the table before Lina had a chance to ask her anything.

Then Filia caught Torrin watching her from outside. He was wearing the same clothes he had on when she found him sitting on that boulder a week ago.

Her heart leapt for a moment, but then he quickly disappeared into the crowd before she could move. Filia did not see him for him for the rest of the day.

Most of the shops closed down in the evening letting the owners and their employees a chance to enjoy themselves. Filia wasted no time putting Val to bed and getting to the dance stages on the off-chance she might run into Torrin.

The whole East end of town was glowing with multi colored lanterns strung everywhere with streamers and garlands decorating the platforms the musicians performed on. The dance stages themselves were open-air with just enough lighting to see but also to provide a romantic setting.

There were a couple of times Filia thought she saw the back of Torrin’s head, but she blamed it on the low lighting and resided herself near some food stands watching the scene around her.

She spotted her girls either gathering into a group talking and giggling amongst themselves or paired off with a boy, and she saw Lina looking around nervously for someone (she guessed Gourry). Gourry was dancing with a blushing girl who looked to be about fourteen and kept looking at her own feet. 

Filia was watching with great amusement wondering when Lina will finally catch sight of him, when her pendant began to glow. She looked around for the source, having a good idea of who it could be, but failed to notice a figure dressed in a pirate costume and a wide-brimmed feather hat make his way to her side until he spoke.

“Mind if I join you?”

Filia jumped, not expecting him to be so close by. “Next time, try facing me when you do that.”

“The last time I did that, you threw me across your bedroom,” Xellos quipped.

“You were on top of me!” Filia turned away red-faced when she realized what she just said.

It was refreshing for Xellos to cause the dragoness discomfort after a busy month. He never got tired of the adorable faces she made when embarrassed. _And to think, I used to hate her. Well, not_ hate _her._

Irritating was the word he was looking for. Nobody ever irritated him like Filia did.

“Then I’ll make sure I have your permission next time, dear Filia.” He bowed slightly to make his point.

Filia did not look at him but lowered her voice. “Only if I get attacked like that again.”

“Good to know,” said Xellos. “So, you haven’t had any more nightmare--”

“--Why do you go through all this trouble for me?” Filia interrupted.

“Hmm?”

“When I first woke up after the nightmare, and later at the market, it seemed like you were very worried about me.” Xellos’ odd behavior was not matching up for Filia. Both times he had a look on his face that could, _literally,_ kill.

_There must be something else behind it besides orders from his mistress._

“Of course I was,” he answered simply. “I would be in a lot of trouble if anything happened to you.”

 _Or maybe I‘m just imagining it…_ “So, that’s how it is. Typical,” Filia spat.

“No need to spear me,” Xellos replied. “I’m the reason my Lord is so interested in you in the first place.”

“What?” _…so I was right?_

“I was scolded for many things that went wrong in my mission dealing with Valgaav. Somehow you turned up in the conversation, and, well, I ended up convincing her you were worthy of attention.”

Xellos looked at Filia who stared at him, dumbfounded.

He put a finger under her chin to close her mouth and moved to within a couple of inches to her face. “Surprised that I might have a heart, dear Filia?”

Filia lifted her chin off of his finger, looking down as she shook her head. “Well, no… I mean, technically, you don’t have a heart, but… you and I, we…”

_We hate each other._

“…Aren’t compatible?” Xellos suggested.

Filia nearly choked. “I didn’t mean it _that_ way!” _Hate might have been a strong word, but…_

His grin widened. “Of course you didn’t.” Xellos took Filia’s hand and pulled over to a crowd of dancers on one of the platforms. 

“W-what are you doing?” she said nervously.

“Trying to enjoy my evening. Work has been _very_ hectic.” Xellos’ free arm encircled her waist, and he led her to the middle of the crowd.

Filia kept herself as calm as possible. “Didn’t think you were into this sort of thing.”

“You’re observations are, sadly, quite poor,” Xellos replied. “There is plenty here for my monster appetite to feast upon.” He twirled Filia once around. “And besides, I have my little Filia as my lifeboat.”

“Just don’t cause any trouble while your here.” Filia’s eyes quickly scanned around them making sure Torrin was not around.

Nothing was going the way she planned, and if Torrin ever caught Xellos this close to her, it could get unpleasant quick.

Xellos sensed the irritation in her was different from usual. “Anxious not to be caught in my arms?”

Her eyes snapped back to him. “No,” Filia said quickly. “You better not be up to something.” She knew it was redundant remark, but her nerves were getting to her. _I need to get away._

“Dear Filia, I’m always up to something.” He grinned.

“And stop calling me that!”

“Would you prefer an insult?”

“I don’t need this right now. If Torrin sees you--”

“--Oh, I see how it is.” Xellos caught the reason behind her nervousness. _This is unexpected._ “I’m not even gone for a month, and look what happens.”

“It isn’t what you think!” Filia protested. “I--”

“--Lying doesn’t become you, dear Filia, and it doesn’t fool me.” The tone in his voice came out a little edgier than he meant it to be.

“My feelings about Torrin are none of your business,” Filia stated glaringly.

“Oh, I do believe they are.” Xellos threw her arms onto his shoulders and brought her closer to him into a dance position only intimate couples took. His eyes gazed intently into Filia’s. “And they concern me _very_ much.”

Filia’s heart was beating frantically from the close contact. Xellos had his own arms wrapped tightly around her waist, and she knew the only way she could break out of them is if she used all of her dragon strength to push him away. _He’s trying to get me to cause a scene._

Xellos was getting quite a rush, not just from her emotions, but from her body as well. His grasp on her was so he could feel every move Filia made and every curve she had.

He put his lips next to her ear. “What do you think will happen if _he_ saw us now?”

 _“Stop it.”_ Filia’s voice was low and agitated. _“What is your point?”_

The grip on her waist loosened, and she thankfully took a step back from Xellos. He had his usual grinning mask back on. However, Filia felt there was something very different about him. His eyes from before had a coveting look that chilled her.

“Just be very careful with yourself, dear Filia.” Xellos leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before phasing out of sight.


	2. Good Old Fashioned Festival Fun Part II

# ~* SLAYERS: FALLEN STARS *~

## Chapter 9: Good Old Fashioned Festival Fun Part II

Filia held a hand to her cheek feeling a little like déjà vu but a bit more twisted. She did not know if she should be angry or blushing madly out of embarrassment. _What the hell is Xellos thinking?_

“Hey, Filia!” Lina’s voice called out to her out of nowhere, “Why are you standing there like that?”

She searched around and found Lina standing by the platform steps waving at her. Filia tried to act normal as she walked over, hoping nobody she knew saw what just happened.

“What’s the matter?” Lina asked. She noticed the pendant around Filia’s neck was glowing faintly. “Was Xellos just here?” she pointed.

“Um, yeah,” Filia said nervously. “He was checking up on me, and I was just startled.”

Lina folded her arms. “That idiot. He never knew how to greet a lady properly,” she retorted.

“Y-yeah,” Filia laughed uneasily. “T-that’s what I always say.” Her heart was still pounding.

“Are you okay?” Lina asked, noticing the odd look her face.

“I’m-fine!--Like I-said,-I-just-had-a-little-scare.--So,-what-are-you-doing-here?” Filia chattered like a frightened chipmunk in her attempt to deflect the attention off of her.

It apparently worked because Lina’s face turned pink at her question. “L-looking…”

Filia breathed a little easier. “If you’re looking for Gourry, he’s on the next platform.”

“I-I didn’t say I was looking for Jellyfish! Anyone would do.” Lina’s eyes impulsively looked over to the other platform.

Filia grabbed her hand. “Let’s go find him anyway.”

She felt if anyone should get over their nerves, it ought to be Lina Inverse. There was nothing but imaginary barriers in her way.

“B-but, I-I’m sure he’s already dancing with somebody else!” Lina protested, but she did not bother pulling her hand out of Filia’s and kept walking. _Why me? I should’ve went to the play._

It did not take long for Lina to spot Gourry now that she was looking at the right platform. Her knees grew weak as Filia let her to the steps. Filia waved him over, and Gourry excused himself from his young partner, who gave an unsteady curtsy and a pretty but nervous smile.

“Hello!” Gourry smiled as he trotted over to them. “Are you looking for someone to dance with?”

“I’m not,” said Filia. “But Lina doesn’t have a dance partner.” She yanked Lina in front of her and pushed her up the steps into Gourry’s arms.

Lina nearly face-planted into his chest. “Don’t push, _Filia!_ ” she turned and snapped.

“You okay?” Gourry asked.

Lina’s face turned a little pale as she looked up at him and felt her knees begin to shake. “Y-yes.”

Gourry gently took her waist and made sure both of her arms were in the proper place.

“You know,” he said as he began to move his feet. “I don’t think we’ve ever danced before.”

Lina shuffled her own feet trying not to hit Gourry’s. “I-I’m sure we have, y-you just don’t remember.”

“Really?” Gourry asked. “I could have sworn we haven’t.”

_He forgets how we met, but this he remembers,_ Lina thought. She looks over to Filia who waved at them before taking off.

“Just watch my feet, Lina, okay? You’ll trip if you don’t pick up your feet,” said Gourry.

“U-uh, o-okay.” She clutched him tightly for support as Gourry led them as he led them around the platform.

~~~~~

Torrin had been hiding behind one of the music stages talking to Gourry about the contest until a very shy fourteen year old girl came up to them asking for a dance. Gourry stepped up and led her to over to the platforms leaving Torrin alone with his thoughts, debating how he should approach Filia again.

A minute later a pigtailed teenager in a costume that looked like a multicolored turkey wearing a dress approached him. It was Janna.

“What are you doing over hear Mr. Egan?” she asked him in her usual bright tone. Out of all of Filia’s girls, Torrin found her to be the most upbeat person, and the most inquisitive.

“Hello Janna. Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked.

“You bet!” She smiled. “I’m looking for my boyfriend, Marcus. He as tall as you and has short black hair and brown eyes. He’s supposed to be wearing a bird costume. Have you seen him? He’s owes me a dance.”

“Sorry, I haven’t,” Torrin answered.

Janna eyed him curiously. “You waiting for someone?”

“Not really.”

Her smile widened into a giggly grin. “Then, you can dance with me!”

Janna grabbed hold of Torrin’s arm and pulled up the steps by the stage.

“W-wait! I-I didn’t-”

“-but you look very bored standing over there. Oh gods, the other girls will be so jealous!” Janna nearly squealed.

Torrin sighed to himself. He let the girl lead him to the middle of the platform and took her hand and waist, not feeling the least bit in the mood.

This did not escape Janna’s attention. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he said, trying to sound pleasant.

“What happened with you and Miss Filia last night?” she inquired.

The question caught Torrin off guard. But if he remembered correctly, Janna was there when Filia… _Not what I want to think about right now._

He flushed. “Nothing.”

“Awww, that’s disappointing,” Janna whined. “Miss Filia was really sad all day today. She tries to hide it, but I can tell.”

Torrin looked away. “I know.”

“Then why are you avoiding her?” she asked.

“It’s complicated,” he said, slowly shaking his head.

It was not a good enough answer for Janna. “What’s complicated? You’re both dragons, aren’t you?”

Torrin sighed. “That’s the only thing that isn’t complicated.”

“But you like her, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Then, you should ask her out,” Janna insisted.

Torrin looked at her, half smiling at her naiveté. “No offense, but we’re not merely teenagers with a crush on each other.”

Janna stared at him curiously for a moment, then something clicked inside her head. She grinned. “You’ve had _a lot_ of girlfriends before, huh?” she asked mischievously.

Torrin’s face blushed at her remark. _Okay, maybe she’s not_ that _naïve._ “T-that’s not really your business.” 

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Janna said exultantly. “All of us at the shop kept trying to guess how many.”

Torrin went quiet and stopped moving his feet. _This is getting too personal._

Janna dropped the overly triumphant look on her face, sensing she went too far. “Did you love any of them?” she asked gently.

He let go of her. “Yes I did. One.”

Torrin walked away towards the platform steps, but Janna followed behind him and managed to grab his hand.

“Did she hurt you?” she asked.

Torrin turned around. “Look,” he said as politely as possible, “This conversation’s making me feel uncomfortable, and I would appreciate it if you would stop.”

“I’m sorry,” Janna said with great sympathy. “I just…wanted to help.”

Torrin hated seeing her so subdued. He gently squeezed her hand with both of his. “Thank you, but I’ve been having this same discussion in my head all day.”

“Then you must really care for Miss Filia,” she said.

“I do,” he replied. “That’s why I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Or yourself.” Janna stated.

Torrin looked at her, confused.

“I’ve known guys like that,” Janna continued, “They get hurt one time, and that’s it. Every girl after that they treat like they’re trash.”

“I’ve never treated any dragoness like that. It was always mutual,” Torrin insisted.

Janna shook her head, her eyes never leaving his face. “Sorry, but that doesn’t justify it. Mutual abuse doesn’t make anyone happy.”

She saw right through him. _Janna is right. I was never happy._

Now that he was faced with the possibility of real happiness, Torrin was already bailing and taking the coward’s way out.

Filia, to his knowledge, had never been in love before, but just a week ago she stood up to him, ready and willing to take that chance. It was a very _human_ trait but perhaps the best trait for a dragon to mimic. As uptight Torrin himself can be at times, he was not very fond of the dragon race’s tendency to not take many chances.

He had already bent many rules, and though they probably were not the best choices even by human standards, he was learning from them.

The first thing Torrin knew he had to do was own up to his past actions. “I still have to tell her.”

“You don’t have to right away. Just say there are a few things about yourself you’re not very proud of, and you’ll tell her when you’re ready.” Janna suggested. “I think that after all that Miss Filia’s been through, she would understand.”

“This isn’t the only thing that’s bothering me,” he said.

“Just tackle one problem at a time, okay? It looks like this is the one thing that’s keeping you from her.” Janna’s bright smile returned, encouraging him.

Torrin had to smile back. “Thank you. You’re very perceptive.”

Janna nodded in thanks. “It’s a gift. Plus, I really want to see Miss Filia happy.” Her eyes turned thoughtful. “The first few months she was here she always had a fake smile on her face, though she had a new baby on the way and a new shop doing very well. She had a hard time opening up to anyone, and a couple of us girls had to break her down to find out what was really going on.”

“She had lost her entire clan,” said Torrin with a hint of sadness.

“I know,” Janna said, mirroring his tone. “And they lied to her. Miss Filia told me everything. She doesn’t deserve it.”

Janna read Torrin’s mind. He had also held back telling Filia what he felt about her reasoning behind raising Val. _Just another thing I’ll have to tell her in time._

He was about to put his thoughts to words when he felt an odd tingling of energy at the back of his neck, and immediately, Torrin raised his head up to look for the source.

“What is it?” asked Janna.

“It’s nothing,” he reassured her as the tingling of negative energy grew stronger. “Just thought I saw someone.” _Felt them is more like it. It has to be Xellos._

Torrin excused himself and went in search of the source.

He found Filia a couple of minutes later when Lina called her off the dance platform right after the negative energy faded, so he waited to approach her until Filia dropped Lina off with Gourry.

~~~~~

Filia waved to Lina and Gourry as they disappeared into the crowd of dancers and was about to head back to the food stands when she spotted Torrin walking her way. She felt her face go pale and her hand automatically went to her pendant, which was still glowing very softly.

Torrin figured her reaction was due to not expecting to see him. He did not blame her for it.

“Are you all right?” he asked concernedly.

Filia did not see any anger in his face. _He didn’t see Xellos._

She breathed a small sigh of relief managing a little smile but did not lower her hand. “I’m doing fine.”

“Did Xellos ever show up?”

Her hand clenched the pendant. “O-only for a moment. H-he was checking up on me.”

Torrin was relieved but a little irritated. “I still don’t trust that monster. Did he have any new information on what’s going on?”

“No.” Filia did not look him in the eye.

There was a moment of awkward silence.

Torrin wracked his brain for something to say. He had to find a way to make her feel comfortable around him again. “Will you…have any extra time tomorrow?”

Filia met his eyes. “I’m afraid not. It’ll be busier tomorrow. Why?”

_I’ll have to recruit Janna on this, he thought._ “Gourry and I signed up for a fight competition that starts tomorrow at the town square. We could use some support to help us to get through the semi-finals in the afternoon.”

“Semi-finals?” Filia had to fight the sudden urge to giggle at his boldness. “What makes you two so sure you’ll make it that far? Don’t tell me you’re planning to cheat! The reward isn’t worth it!”

Torrin felt like a valve in his chest released all the pressure that had been building up inside of him. He smiled confidently folding his arms. “When it comes to feats of physical strength and skill, the Dimos don’t cheat.”

“And what about Gourry?” Filia teasingly asked.

“Make sure Lina comes too, and he’ll be fine,” he replied.

At that, Filia put on a true smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” Torrin turned and walked away feeling a bit triumphant.

All he needed now was to make sure Janna gave Filia a nudge out the door. Even if it did not work out, it was preferable to try than never find out.

Filia was not sure of what just happened, but she felt much better that Torrin was not avoiding her anymore.

She looked down at her pendant. It was not glowing anymore. _He better not show up tomorrow._

~~~~~

The next day, Gourry met up with Jean in the morning to pick up their swords from the blacksmith while Torrin waited for them in the town square. Hundreds of teenage boys and men and even a few women were milling around the roped off area of the square with several makeshift miniature arenas scattered around the fountain in the middle. Outside, a crowd of spectators grew by the minute.

Though Torrin’s composure was cool, he felt anything but calm. When he left Filia’s shop, it was already packed with customers, and he did not even get a chance to say goodbye to Filia. He had another talk with Janna last night in hopes that the girl will manage to convince Filia to come out to the contest. It did not look very promising.

He spotted Gourry and Jean coming up the main street and waved them over. Gourry was his usual cheerful self, but Jean looked like the walking dead.

Poor Jean did not sleep well, as evidenced by his brown hair looking even more unruly than the day before and the pallid color of his face. When he met up with Gourry, he was already having second thoughts about his decision.

What Miranda said the day before had finally sunk in.

Torrin did not get a good look at Jean until they entered the roped off area. “Morning Gourry. Excuse my language, Jean, but you look like hell.”

“You’re excused,” Jean said dully.

Gourry put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Awww, cheer up! I bet after the first couple of rounds, you’ll feel much better!”

“If he makes it through the first couple of rounds,” said Torrin skeptically. Gourry’s cheeriness was almost too much to bear at this time of day.

“What was I thinking.” Jean hit his head hard against his palm a couple of times.

“You wanted to show you can protect her, right?” asked Gourry.

“But she won’t be coming, so what’s the point!” the boy yelled.

“It’s too late to back out now,” Torrin said as he pointed towards the fountain, where an older man with a large soldiers build and armor stood on a podium with a megaphone.

“ATTENTION! ALL PARTICIPANTS! CHECK THE LISTS FOR YOUR FIRST MATCH AND REPORT TO THE CORRECTLY NUMBERED ARENA!”

The old man pointed below him.

“REMEMBER! YOU MUST HAVE ON YOUR PERSON NO MORE THAN TWO WEAPONS OF CHOICE, ONE FOR EACH HAND! ALL WEAPONS MUST BE DRAWN BEFORE A MATCH CAN COMMENCE!”

He went on to explain the rules.

“EACH ARENA WILL BE OVERSEEN BY TWO IMPARTIAL JUDGES, AND EACH MATCH WILL BE DIVIDED INTO THREE ROUNDS! IN EACH ROUND, A POINT WILL BE AWARDED TO A INDIVIDUAL FOR DELIVERING A FATAL STRIKE! IF AN OPPONENT MAKES A CRITICAL STRIKE TO A LIMB, THAT LIMB MUST BE RENDERED USELESS!”

“What does that mean?” Jean asked.

“It means that if an arm or a leg is hit, you can no longer use it,” Torrin explained.

“So, if they get both of your legs you can’t use them?”

“You would have to get on your knees and fight in that position.”

“Oh. Interesting.” Jean perked up a little.

“IN ORDER TO DELIVER A FATAL STRIKE, YOU MUST AIM FOR THE AREA BETWEEN THE LOWER ABDOMEN AND THE NECK! THE HEAD IS ALSO OPEN FOR A FATAL STRIKE! ON THE BACK SIDE, THE FATAL ZONE IS FROM THE WAIST TO THE NECK AND HEAD!”

“I probably should have brought a helmet,” said Gourry.

“It won’t matter,” replied Torrin. “Armor or nor armor, a hit is a hit. Besides, you have to be pretty hard-headed to do this to start with.”

“THE LOSER WILL BE DESIGNATED TO THE LOSER’S BRACKET AND BE GIVEN ONE MORE CHANCE TO MOVE TO THE NEXT LEVEL.”

The old man signaled to a few men spaced out around the roped area to take the barriers down and let everyone in.

“ALL SPECTATORS MUST STAND A FEW FEET AWAY FROM THE ARENAS TO PREVENT INJURY AND ALLOW ROOM FOR PARTICIPANTS, JUDGES, AND AIDES TO ENTER AND EXIT THE ARENA! THE FIRST MATCHES WILL BEGIN IN TWENTY MINUTES!”

Torrin, Gourry, and Jean made their way to the lists and got their numbers. There were only about twenty four arenas, so many had to wait their turn for their first match. The arenas themselves were little more than a circle of stacked hay with more hay strewn on the ground for padding.

Gourry was at arena number three, and his match was one of the first to take place. Since Torrin and Jean had to wait their turn, they came to watch.

Over the past three weeks both Torrin and Gourry had spent plenty of time practicing up in the mountains, so they knew each other’s fighting style very well. Torrin was easily able to anticipate Gourry’s every move with his first opponent.

Of course, it did help that Gourry’s opponent was rather clumsy in handling his sword, and the match ended quickly. Gourry did not even have to strike any of his limbs to lay a fatal blow all three times. He walked out of the arena to the sound of cheers, leaving the man a mortified heap on the ground.

“That was very smooth,” Torrin complimented. He clasped Gourry’s arm and slapped him on the shoulder.

“Thanks. And what did you think?” Gourry asked Jean.

Jean had his chin in his hand looking rather thoughtful. “Pretty good. Though any one of us could’ve taken him.”

Torrin turned to him and noticed the color in the boy’s face was returning. “Is that so?”

Jean gave a rather devilish grin. “Just you wait and see.”

“Well, look who just woke up!” Torrin chuckled at his abrupt personality change.

Next up was Jean at arena number four.

When one of the judges called for the participants of the next match to step into the arena, he told Jean to get out because it was too dangerous, but when Jean showed him his name and number, the judge laughed. Several the other participants began laughing when they realized what was going on, and the laughing spread to the surrounding spectators.

Torrin and Gourry looked at each other with uncertainty.

Jean kept a stony face on as he took his side of the ring. He concentrated on sizing up his opponent, who was a young man he recognized from the town militia. His opponent was not laughing with the rest of them, but the look he gave Jean said he did not expect much from this fight.

After the Judge settled himself down and took his position in the ring, he motioned to the both of them to draw their weapons. The militia man unsheathed his sword, and Jean took out his cutlass.

“Begin!” the judge shouted.

In one fluid motion, Jean charged and ducked as his opponent’s sword came down, glanced the blow off his cutlass, and caught the man by the stomach.

The man stared down at him in amazement. Everyone around the arena was dead silent.

A few seconds later, one of the judges yelled, “Point!”

The crowd came out of its stupor and applauded. Jean, now smiling, got up from the ground and calmly walked back to his side.

“Way to go, Jean!” Gourry hollered.

“Would you look at that,” Torrin mused.

In the next round, the militia man was more on guard, but Jean took the critical strike rule to his advantage and took out the man’s good arm. The Judge made him put the useless arm behind his back and let them continue. Jean knocked the sword out of his other hand and laid the final blow at his neck.

The crowd cheered louder this time. Both of them stepped back in place for one more round.

This time, Jean aimed for the legs, but his own arm was hit just as he managed to get one. The man knelt down on one knee, and Jean tucked his right arm behind him.

Jean did not have much of a problem landing his last strike to the back of the neck before the man’s sword made it to his. The Judge awarded him the last point and declared him the winner.

“That was amazing!” Gourry shouted above the noisy crowd

“That was nothing,” said Jean exultantly as he exited the arena. “I don’t understand though.”

“Understand what?” Torrin asked.

“Why they bother with a third round, or with giving out points,” Jean questioned.

“Probably to show one’s overall ranking in the contest,” said Torrin.

“Hah! Is that so. Then you two better watch out!” Jean grinned.

Torrin took a hold of the boy’s head and ruffled his hair vigorously. “Don’t get too cocky now! This was only the first fight! You’ll meet much tougher opponents later.”

Jean pushed his hand away. “I know that!”

“Your father must be a real expert swordsman,” said Gourry.

“He was a very successful merchant,” Jean said with pride. “Him and my uncles owned a ship, and they often had run-ins with pirates. All my cousins and brothers worked for them as well, so they also learned how to fight. My mother and aunts took care of finances at home. I’m the youngest one, so I have to stay at home.”

“So, when did your father die?” Gourry asked.

Jean’s eyes suddenly softened. “He was cut down a few months ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Torrin with care.

“My father… He was an expert swordsman. But…” Jean looked down at the hilt of his cutlass. “Eventually, pirates took his ship, and my family narrowly escaped. My father… He didn’t make it out alive,” he finished slowly, like it was the hardest thing he had to say.

“Did you ever plan of following in his footsteps?” Torrin asked.

“I used to,” Jean replied. “But then Miranda… She felt very bad for me, but when I told her I wanted to be like my dad, she convinced me not to because she didn’t want the same thing to happen to me.”

Gourry was having a hard time comprehending how the boy’s desire to enter the contest fit into all of this. “But why did you want to show your girl how well you can fight if she hates it?”

“I thought I already told you! I want to show I can protect her!”

“I think what Gourry is really asking,” Torrin interjected, “is why you want to show you can protect her though she hates fighting?”

Jean thought on the rephrased question. “Because…my father died protecting my family. They didn’t want him to die either, but he did it for them anyway and saved their lives.”

Torrin was rather impressed with his answer. At such a young age, Jean’s father instilled in the boy a sense of responsibility toward those he cared about. “Does Miranda know?”

“If you mean how my father died, then yes,” answered Jean.

“But not how you’re willing to die to save her,” Torrin concluded.

Jean shook his head. “No. That part might _really_ scare her.”


	3. Good Old Fashioned Festival Fun Part III

# ~* SLAYERS: FALLEN STARS *~

## Chapter 10: Good Old Fashioned Festival Fun Part III

Gourry, Torrin, and Jean moved over to arena number seven, as it was now Torrin’s turn to show what he can do, and judging by the group surrounding his ring, he had his work cut out for him.

Not only did Torrin not recognize any of them as locals, but they looked a little rough around the edges as well. Many wore what looked like well worn military armor and carried military grade weapons of all shapes and sizes. The others looked more thuggish and a bit shady with various maces and clubs that matched their personas.

“Wow, how did you get elected into the freak club?” Jean noted to Torrin under his breath.

“Luck of the draw, I guess,” Torrin mumbled.

They made their way through to the hay bales just as a match was finishing up. The judges called a winner and announced the next pair.

Torrin took the time he had left to get a closer look at his possible opponents. He was familiar with these types, as he had come across them during many of his travels, but as strong as the Dimos are, it required much skill to take down hardened soldiers and thugs. His own clan, like every other dragon clan, no longer concerned themselves with war or looked for a fight, and admittedly, they would be a bit rusty without using their magic, especially in human form.

Torrin would not be surprised if many of these men made it to the semi-finals.

Two matches in, Torrin noticed a slender figure in pink across the ring staring at him curiously with dark brown eyes.

Nobody else seemed to notice her yet. He had to assume it was a her though he was too far away to tell if the figure was feminine. The clothing he could see he recognized as nomadic from the Desert of Destruction. A headdress and mask covered the head and face.

Jean nudged him, when he realized Torrin was not watching the match. “What are you staring at?”

“You see that woman there?” Torrin nodded towards the other side of the ring. “Over there, in pink.”

Jean strained on his toes over the stacks of hay to see. “What is a woman doing here?” he said in a derisive tone.

A third match ended, and the next was called. The pink figure moved forward into the arena.

Now Torrin could see clearly it was in fact a woman. Many of the men around him booed and a couple of them even threw out some cat calls.

“This is going to end quick.” Jean wrinkled his freckled nose. His concern was not the woman being unable to fight but the fact that she had to end up with this bunch of ‘old hands.’

“Don’t underestimate a woman in a fight. In some ways, they can be more dangerous,” Torrin warned him.

The dark eyes still staring at him were those of a veteran.

Her opponent was one of the seasoned soldiers standing nearby. He looked more respectable than the rest but not by much. When the judge called for them to draw, the woman took out two small curved swords and took a crouched stance. The man drew his sword.

Barely a second after the judge shouted to begin the woman locked her gaze on the man before her and charged, but the soldier held himself well and did not bat an eye. The two circled each other several times taking hits whenever they could find an opening. Everyone around the ring shouted either encouragement or insults to the point where it was almost deafening.

Jean was again on his toes, now screaming his lungs out at both of them. “Come on! Find an opening! _Any_ opening!”

Next to him, Gourry was doing the same thing but was calling out to just the woman. Torrin figured Gourry was the type who would always support a girl in any contest. He was intrigued by the woman himself, but he watched in silence, studying her every move.

A couple of minutes went by, and the old soldier finally caught the woman’s right arm. She was forced to put down the sword she held in that arm, and she put the arm behind her back without any sign of frustration one would normally display being put at a disadvantage.

“Now she’ll lose. The first person to lose a limb usually does,” Jean noted.

One of the judges signaled for them to continue, and the soldier proceeded to aim a fatal blow on the woman’s armless side. She managed to hit both of his arms at the same time with a swift under-swing before his blade touched her neck.

The arena filled with the sound of deep long O’s from everyone. Jean’s jaw dropped, utterly impressed.

Since the soldier lost both of his arms, the woman was allowed to strike without any resistance to officially end the round. The judge awarded the point, and both quietly went back to their own side of the ring.

“See, what did I tell you?” Torrin said to Jean, who was still staring at the woman.

The last two rounds did not last as long, but each time Torrin noticed the woman would always allow herself to lose an arm or leg before finishing the man off. He also noted that she must be somewhat of an acrobat because her movement when she dodged a swing or whipped her blades around towards her opponent was more like dancing than straightforward fighting. Torrin guessed the first round was just to test out the soldier’s skill.

Jean was watching her closely as well like a kid watching a magic trick for the first time. He had never seen moves like that used in a swordfight before.

When it was over, the crowd around him shouted crude complements at her, if saying you wanted to know what kind of moves she used in the bedroom was considered a complement.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Gourry commented to Torrin, who nodded.

Jean wrinkled his face in disgust at the vulgarity. “Nothing compared to a sailor’s mouth, but still…there’s girls present!”

“Some men just don’t care,” Torrin said, agreeing with him. “You’re talking about a group that’s too used to being around only other men anyway.”

“Excuse me,” said a smooth female’s voice with an accent, “Am I interrupting anything?”

All three stared at the woman in pink who walked over during the applause. She took off her mask and headdress revealing her brown tied back hair and a sweet smile that contradicted the cunning look in her dark eyes.

Jean spoke up first. “You’re a very good fighter! For a woman, that is-”

Torrin pushed head down into the hay to cut him off. “-He means its impressive that you held your own against a well experienced soldier. It would be difficult for anyone to tell what skill you have, just by looking at you.”

Gourry put his two cents in. “I was rooting for you the whole time, miss! A girl needs all the support she can get!”

The woman let out a small thoroughly amused giggle. “I’m glad to find such fine young gentlemen among this riffraff.”

Jean popped his head up out of the hay. “Where you from? I’ve never seen your style before.”

“You must be from where Mr. Dragon came from, right?” Gourry asked, recognizing the accent.

The woman turned to Torrin. “I’ve seen you before. You’re the dragon man everyone has been talking about. You and I have a similar accent, but,” she studied his clothing. “Your outfit is only vaguely familiar.”

“The desert is where my clan was originally from,” Torrin explained. “We moved to the Northern part of the peninsula in Kataart centuries ago.”

“Yes, I remember the stories of desert dragons who fled to safety from an ancient war. _Nár lagaí Rangórt do lámh!”_

Torrin smiled at her kind words. “Do you really want to grace a possible future opponent with good fortune?”

“To defeat an opponent with such fortune would be a great honor,” she replied.

“Well said.” He lent a hand to her. “Torrin Ru Egan.”

“Samira.” She took his hand firmly. “From the Northern crest of the Desert of the Destruction. Though I don’t share your tongue, I have spent a great deal of time amongst the nomads.”

“What are you doing so far from home then?” Torrin asked.

“My family are merchants, and I have been sent by my husband and father-in-law to look for new trade routes. Us desert people have been a little slow on the uptake in trading with the West Lands since the barrier came down. Most of our focus has been on the lands South of the desert.” Samira took out her family seal she had around her neck stamped on a small gold medallion. The seal also indicated the merchant guild her family belonged to.

“My family are merchants too!” Jean dug out his own seal that was stamped on a fine piece of leather. “See!”

Samira took a good look at it, then smiled. “I’ve met your mother. You must be Jean.”

Jean grinned widely.

“She said you only think of sword fighting,” she added.

Jean frowned. “It’s for good reason!”

“He’s fighting in this contest for a girl named Miranda,” said Gourry.

“Hey! You don’t have to go and tell everyone!” Jean snapped, now blushing.

“Oh, a girl, is it?” Samira’s interest piqued. “Is she very sweet and lovely?”

“Y-yes,” Jean stammered, looking at his feet. All the gusto he regained at his first match suddenly left him. “But she won’t come and watch me.”

Before Samira could say anything else, a judge called out Torrin’s name. He excused himself to take his position in the arena, and the others moved to a better place to watch.

Torrin’s opponent was a large man that looked a lot like a troll holding a metal spiked mace. The man did not have any metal armor, but wore mostly leather from head to toe including his helmet. He gave Torrin a toothy menacing grin, like a dog ready to chew someone’s leg off.

Jean leaned on a stack of hay and set his head down on arms as if he had lost interest.

“I appeared to have upset the boy,” Samira said in a low voice to Gourry.

“He’s been on a bumpy emotional ride since yesterday, but I’m sure he’ll be fine when it’s his turn to fight again,” replied Gourry.

Samira left it at that and changed the subject. “I haven’t asked your name yet.”

“It’s Gourry Gabriev,” he answered. “And you are…Samuel??”

Samira blinked at him, then laughed. “Its Samira, but close enough!”

Gourry shrugged. “Just as well. Samuel is supposed to be a boy’s name anyway.”

The judged shouted for the match to begin.

Neither Torrin or the troll-man bothered charging and instead slowly circled while inching closer to each other. Torrin had his axe in his right hand and a large knife in his left blade side down and was slightly crouched. The man before him hunched over holding his mace out in front of him and looked bowlegged as he walked sideways around the ring.

Yelling from the spectators grew louder as they got within arm’s reach, then finally the troll-man took a big swing. Torrin deflected it easily and came down with the knife to hit his arm. The troll-man stepped back in time to avoid a critical hit, then came forward again with a few more well-calculated swings before falling back again.

Torrin went on the offensive and used each swing to test where a weak spot could be found. The troll-man deflected several hits before Torrin noticed he would keep his left side a little too forward sometimes like he was used to carrying a shield.

Torrin swung low with the axe to push the mace away from the troll-man’s left and crossing his own left arm under the other arm, aimed for the side of the troll-man’s abdomen.

A judge awarded Torrin with a point. He heard Gourry shouting in approval amongst the cheers and turned to him to give an assuring nod.

In the next round, Torrin expected it to be tougher now that the troll-man was aware of his mistake. He walked over after the judge gave the go-ahead and did not hesitate to lock the troll-man’s mace down so he could have an opening at the neck.

Again, the troll-man was a little too quick and swung his mace under and over to release it from Torrin’s axe and attempt a blow at the head. Torrin dodged, using his knife to help push it away. He purposely stepped back into a defensive position and took a few more hits as he tried to figure out his next move.

The troll-man was now swinging harder either out of excitement or frustration. Torrin could not tell.

One particularly strong swing almost made him spin as he tried to deflect it properly to the right to keep the mace from touching any part of his hand or arm. He mentally thanked the Earthlord for the strength to keep him from losing his balance.

That gave him an interesting idea. Two more hard swings later, Torrin repeated the action, and this time he let himself swing around right and turned his knife outward to make a mock-slice to the stomach.

Torrin was awarded again with a point.

The other participants and spectators cheered and chanted to show their appreciation for such an entertaining performance. Torrin and the troll-man walked back to their own sides for one last round. The judge made them wait until the crowd settled down. The crowd itself began clapping in unison when the signal for round three was given.

The troll-man went on the offensive first, but Torrin decided to give his new trick another try, along with a twist to throw him off.

On the third hit, Torrin swung around like he did last time knowing the troll-man would dodge, then another three hits later, he swung the _other_ way two times to catch the troll-man in the back with the axe.

Clapping turned into frantic cheers again as Torrin was declared winner. He walked over to Gourry, receiving numerous praises and slaps on the back. Jean was still staring into the arena, not moving from his spot.

“Have any comments or criticism I could use?” Torrin asked Jean as he leaned over.

“That troll guy relies on his strength a little too much,” Jean answered dully. “You could’ve used your dragon strength easily on him.”

Torrin did not bother to mention he was holding back to prevent injury. “His swings were well-aimed, and he was quicker than he looked. It threw me off a couple of times.”

“I thought it was a fine performance,” said Samira.

Jean rolled his eyes. “No need to rub it in.”

“Well, while you were staring out into space, Gourry was just telling me about how your first match went. You exceeded everybody’s expectations. That certainly isn’t something to turn a nose up at.” Samira did her best sound encouraging.

Jean still did not move but his face was turning a little red. “I guess.”

“How about we take a look at the other matches?” suggested Gourry. “We won’t have another match until the next round.”

“Good point. We’re probably barely halfway through the first round. You up to it, Jean?” asked Torrin.

Jean finally got up from his haystack and stood over by Samira. “Will you teach me some of your moves?”

Samira let out a small laugh. “Only if you’re determined not to give up winning this contest for your girl, whether she’s here or not. I don’t teach quitters.”

“I have to get stronger,” Jean said determinedly though he still felt his doubt clawing at the back of his mind. “So, no, I won’t quit.”

~~~~~

Filia took a late lunch, so she would not miss the semi-finals. Janna had taken her aside earlier that morning to talk to her, but Filia said she had already made her mind up to go.

Part of her was getting excited though Torrin had already made his intentions clear. It did not matter. She wanted to be there for him.

Lina barged in, right in the middle of lunch, with a bag full miscellaneous goodies and a very satisfied grin on her face. Jillas, as usual, reprimanded her at the door for her rudeness, but Lina let it roll off her back and went upstairs, dumping her bag on the kitchen table to show Filia.

“What exactly is all of this for?” Filia asked. She was in the middle of feeding mashed peas and carrots to little Val when Lina came in.

“This,” Lina gestured to the pile on the table, “Is my quarterly income.”

“Your quarterly-what?”

“My income. Just as you make pottery for a living, I make charms, amulets, and other magical items and sell them for profit.” Lina picked around her pile and pulled out a couple of ring-sized gems and a necklace. “See these? I can make them into powerful protective talismans…or if someone’s into something a bit more devious…”

“That’s awful, Lina,” Filia scolded.

“Hey, that’s my business,” Lina replied. “Normally I get this sort of stuff off of bandits and pirates, but I couldn’t resist! Anyway, I’ll be pretty busy after the festival. I wanna get this done before we head over to Amelia’s.”

Val was reaching for some shiny red fabric at the bottom of the pile and almost pulled some of the objects off the table before Filia took his hand away. “No hun, that’s not for you.” He started to fuss.

“I still can’t believe it,” said Lina as she stared at Val.

“Believe what?” Filia asked as she attempted to get Val to finish his peas and carrots.

Lina pointed to the hatchling, who was now spitting his food back out. “That he was Valgaav.”

She would not say it out loud, but Filia still had a hard time believing it herself. Her first few months watching over Val’s egg was plagued by nightmares, the most common one was of Valgaav literally squeezing the life out of her, and she would wake up in the middle of the night breathing hard and sweating all over.

Seeing Val’s innocent face each time he looked at her lovingly provided some hope that he will never become that monster again. But somehow, it also made her feel a little guilty…and a little frightened.

“Hey, Filia. You okay?” Lina asked.

Filia gave up feeding Val and set him in the middle of her lap, holding his tiny hands. “I’m fine.”

Lina was not sure she was but let it slide this time and began separating her treasures.

“Um, Lina.”

“Hmm?”

“The pendant you gave me. You said you bought it off a friend before they died, right?”

Lina looked up at Filia, a little more somber now. “Yeah, I did.”

“Who was it?” she asked.

Lina took a deep breath. “Remember the time I told you about Milgazia traveling with us for a while?”

“I remember.”

“There was this guy, Luke, who traveled around with a girl named Milina. We fought a few monsters together, and he helped us defeat Dynast and one of his generals, Sherra. I wrote you about that whole episode not too long ago.”

That did not make sense to Filia. “Wait a minute. You said you fought monsters while you had the pendant?”

“I didn’t say that, though it would have been useful at the time.” Lina continued on with her story. “A while later, we ran into those two again before they were hired as bodyguards for a high priest in Sellentia. That’s when I bought the pendant off of Luke. It must have been something he picked off of a bandit ‘cuz that thing isn’t a common item.”

“Sellentia? Isn’t that where Ceifeed and all four Dragon Lords have a shrine?” Filia asked.

“Yup. The shrine to Ceifeed was destroyed, along with its high priest, and the other high priests claimed they heard Ceifeed’s voice telling them they were the new high priest of his shrine. So, they started hiring bodyguards and assassins to kill each other.”

“So…How did Luke die?” This was a hard question for Filia to ask.

It was even harder for Lina to answer, so she took a moment before she replied. “He…his friend Milina…was poisoned by an assassin. He ran to one of the other high priests at another shrine for help, but they refused because she worked for his rival. Milina…didn’t make it. We weren’t there when it happened.”

Filia held Val closer to her, freeing up his hands to try grabbing another object from the table. “I can’t really imagine how that must have felt, having someone you care about die because nobody wanted to help.”

“Yeah, that poor guy was so in love with her, he went berserk after that,” Lina said sadly.

“Did he kill himself then?” The thought sent chills down Filia’s spine.

“Worse. First Luke killed two of the High priests because he held them personally responsible for Milina’s death, then he ran off before finishing the others. By the time we met him again, the piece of Shabranigdu that was inside of him had woken up. Gourry and I…had to defeat him.”

Lina was done talking. She never liked reliving such a tragic memory and did not have the heart to put it in any of her letters. Some small part of Lina was actually afraid of it. She did not even tell Amelia or Zelgadis what happened, and Gourry, out of concern for her, never bothered to mention it.

Out of curiosity, Filia had to press her with one more question. “May I ask…how you did it?”

Lina fiddled around with the talisman on her left wrist. “Well…I’ve told you this much already, I might as well.” She took the talisman off and carefully popped the red stone out of its setting to show the underside.

Filia noticed a very distinct crack running down the backside of the stone. “Oh gods…did you break it?”

“This one only has one crack. The others are worse off. It was either this, or attempting a Giga Slave a third time.” Lina set the stone back in and returned it to her wrist.

“Do they still work?” Filia asked.

“Yeah, but I gotta be careful or I can lose a piece. I have no idea how to fix them. I couldn’t defeat Luke with Shabranigdu’s own power and the power of the other Dark Lords alone. Gourry used the Blast Sword he found right before we met up with Dynast, and Luke’s determination to get his death wish helped.”

Filia found it sad that each time a piece of Shabranigdu was awakened, the living vessel of that piece had to have a strong desire for death to be defeated.

“But-enough-about-that!” Lina forced an unnatural brightness into her tone. “Janna downstairs said you’re going over to watch that fighting contest later! Gourry said him and Egan are participating. Mind if I join?”

“Yes, actually, I was going to ask you about it,” said Filia, relieved to get away from a depressing subject.

She got up holding Val in one arm to clean him off at the sink when Jillas walked into the kitchen.

“Wut’s all ‘tis on thu table!” he yelled.

Lina shot a dirty look at him. “Cool it, rat face. It’s my stuff. I’m just going through it.”

Jillas shook a finger at her. “Then ‘ou betta clean zat up when you’re done! Or I-”

“-Yeah, yeah, I get it Jillas,” Lina said as she went back to sorting.

“Jillas,” Filia called him over to the sink.

“Yes, boss?”

“I’ll need you to watch Val this afternoon. I’m going to the contest at the plaza.” She finished up washing Val’s face and handed him over to the fox. “Make sure he gets a decent nap later.”

“Sho ‘ting, boss!” Jillas replied.

He left the room with Val who decided to start pulling at his whiskers. Jillas lovingly scolded him as they crossed the living room towards the stairs.

Filia took a good look at her pendant and wondered.

Lina’s account did not give her any new information about where it came from. She understood the pendant’s origin was the same as Lina’s talismans, but she wanted to know who the previous owner was. If it passed through a bandit’s hands, they would be difficult to trace for sure.

_I guess there’s no way of knowing,_ Filia thought. _I’m just glad it hasn’t glowed all day._

The last thing she wanted, was Xellos showing up to ruin a good day.


	4. Good Old Fashioned Festival Fun Part IV

# ~* SLAYERS: FALLEN STARS *~

## Chapter 11: Good Old Fashioned Festival Fun Part IV

The last two rounds of matches did not end until around three in the afternoon. The winner’s bracket had to alternate rounds with the loser’s bracket, so it took several hours to complete.

Gourry and Torrin handled their next two matches very well, with Gourry holding the record for the longest match won. His final opponent was a fine broad-swordsman he had the honor of beating down after fifteen minutes. Torrin could have sworn the both of them drew it out just to show off.

Jean, on the other hand, had a difficult second match. He lost the first round and almost lost the second when he had his good arm taken out. Torrin’s warning about stronger opponents lying ahead proved to be true, especially since nobody was underestimating him anymore.

Samira gave him a few suggestions for his next match and reminded him that he should keep using his small stature to his advantage. Jean got the chance to watch her fight again before trying it out himself, and he came out on top.

Now that the first segment of the competition was over, one hour was given to those who made it to the semi-finals to eat. There were aides, mostly children, handing out water, bread, and fruit at the arenas, but it did not take place of a decent meal.

Gourry, Torrin, Jean, and Samira sat at a long outside table that was well shaded with the other competitors. Jean and Gourry were stuffing their faces, drawing odd looks from the rest.

A group of rough-looking men Torrin recognized from before came up to the table.

His hand quietly slid to the handle of his axe in anticipation of a fight, when one of them asked in a rough but surprisingly polite voice, “Can we join ya?”

“Um…Sure?” _This is random,_ Torrin thought as he let go of his axe.

The whole bunch plopped down in the empty spots around the table and began shouting their orders to the waiters.

The troll-man Torrin went up against in his first match sat right beside him. “Ay, ain’t you tha Dragon Man?” He point with a thick finger and grinned toothily, only this time it looked oddly friendly.

“U-uh, yes, that’s me,” replied Torrin with an uneasy smile.

“I have ta say, you’re pretty damn good.” The troll-man held out a beefy looking hand. “Meldrick.”

“Torrin.” He shook his hand.

“So, did any ‘o you made it to tha semis then?” Meldrick asked, referring to Torrin’s group.

“Actually, yes, all four of us did,” said Torrin.

Meldrick nodded to Jean. “Includin’ tha kid?” he asked in disbelief.

At that Jean stopped munching on a chicken leg for a moment and glared. “Iff Jeen!” he mumbled with his mouth full.

“Ha, ha! So, tha ’lil runt beat me out?!” Meldrick’s stomach rolled with laughter. “Musta picked off tha weakest ones. Tha’s damn lucky! Hey, guys!” he shouted, “This boy is goin’ to tha semis!”

Most of the table roared with laughter. The military man Samira went up against in her first match called out from the other end, “Did ‘e get any help from ‘is lady friend thar!”

Torrin thought he should intervene before the taunting got worse, but Samira held him back and teasingly responded, “As a matter of fact, he did! Which says a lot about you, who could not even beat a woman, captain!”

The table roared again, this time at the old soldier. Jean just looked at her in astonishment.

“I’s a retired General, but close enough! I don’t move like I used to!” the general laughed. “But I’ll take ya up on those lessons, if ya givin’ ‘em out!”

“Sorry to disappoint, but I already have student!” Samira shot back. She smirked at Torrin to let him know it was okay.

Gourry, who had been focusing on just his food, suddenly spotted Lina’s bright red hair bobbing amongst the crowded street. He swallowed and jumped up waving. “Hey, Lina! Over here! Over here!”

She saw him with a large piece of ham in his hand and trotted over. “Don’t tell me you started eating without me, Jellyfish!”

“But I couldn’t find you anywhere!” claimed Gourry.

“I had to drop some stuff off. I wasn’t going to haul it around the rest of the day,” Lina replied.

Torrin did not pay much attention until he noticed who was with her, then he rose up, never taking his eyes off Filia.

Filia was still wearing her upside-down tulip costume, but her hair was made up differently in a big loose braid with the ribbons woven into it. Her eyes locked with Torrin’s as she approached the table.

“Glad to see you could make it.” Torrin felt like he was holding his breath as he spoke, thrilled to see Filia here for him. “Will your shop be fine without you?”

“It’ll hold for a while,” Filia answered very warmly, slightly blushing. “The girls are more than capable.”

Lina looked at them both curiously, then noticed Jean who was tearing through his food more voraciously than before. “Hey, who’s the kid?”

Torrin tore his gaze off of Filia to answer, but Filia beat him to it.

“Jean? Is that you?” she asked.

Jean finally looked up. “O hii, miff Fiwia!”

“Jean is going to the semi-finals with us!” said Gourry. “He’s pretty good for a kid!”

“The sem-? Jean?” Filia put her hands on her hips. “Does your mother know about this?”

“Umph,” Jean nervously swallowed his food. “No. That is…I h-haven’t told her yet.”

“Oh dear.” Filia shook her head, sighing. “You better not get hurt, or you’ll be in real trouble.”

“I think he’ll do fine. He won’t find a better teacher than me,” Samira said with a smile.

Filia recognized her immediately. “Samira!” She rushed over to the other side of the table. “It’s been months!”

Samira embraced her. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to notice it was me.”

“How’s your husband?” Filia asked.

“Very well. He should be somewhere at the Southern edge of the desert by now with his father.” Samira smiled. “I told you I would try to make the festival.”

Filia stared blankly for a moment, then she remembered. “Goodness! I’ve been so busy lately, I’ve forgotten! So, what are you doing with these guys?”

Samira smirked. “Fighting, of course. I can’t let myself get soft, now can I?”

“I guess not!” said Filia. “Sadly, I have too much to do as it is to keep practicing.”

“I’m sure I can help you _carve_ out some time.” Samira gave her quick wink.

Filia giggled. “I’d welcome it! Well anyway, I don’t believe you’ve met Lin-”

“Move over, Gourry! Let me in on some of that!” Lina had snuck over to Gourry’s side to get some food.

“And that,” Filia pointed with a hint of embarrassment, “Is Lina Inverse.”

Lina did not bother saying hello, but Jean, who was crowded out, said, “You’re friend’s a real pig.”

At that, Lina growled through a piece of pie halfway shoved into her mouth, “Waf et! Wou wunf!”

“What did you call me?” Jean growled back.

Lina swallowed. “I said, watch it! Don’t ever call a lady a pig!”

“I wouldn’t if you didn’t act like one! And I’m not a _runt!_ ”

Filia laughed nervously while everyone else at the table was either staring or laughing at Lina and Jean as they fought. Gourry just kept plowing through his food.

Torrin, who grew tired of standing quietly watching the chaos unfold, finally spoke. “Filia, I need to talk to-”

He was cut off by a random apple hitting his head. Something snapped inside of him, and he pounded his fist on the table, making it crack. _“Liiinaaa…”_ Torrin growled.

Lina, Jean, and Gourry froze.

“I’d _appreciated_ if you would _exercise_ a bit of self _control,_ and I don’t _care_ who started it,” Torrin pointed as Lina attempted to protest. “ _You_ are the adult here.”

“Jeez, Egan, no need to lose your temper,” Lina said, brushing him off and making his eye twitch a bit.

On the other hand, Jean sat back with a scared look on his face.

“Let it go, Torrin,” Filia sighed, putting a hand on his arm. “I gave up trying to police her manners a long time ago.”

“Gee, thanks, Filia,” Lina snapped.

Filia just ignored her. “Torrin, you said you needed to talk to me?”

Torrin lifted himself off the table when she gently squeezed his arm and looked at her. He felt too agitated to talk now, and everybody’s attention was on him.

“I’ll tell you later,” he said, taking a deep calming breath.

“Is it anything important?” Filia asked.

“Not really,” Torrin lied. He could feel everyone’s eyes staring at the back of his head.

Filia did not let herself show it, but she suspected it was too important to share in front of everyone. “Okay. Now, who’s first to fight in the semi-finals?” she asked, changing the subject.

Jean raised a hand. “Me!”

Lina scoffed at him.

“Just you wait.” Jean glared at Lina, then turned to Filia. “Miss Filia, you’ve seen me fight with my brothers and cousins before, and I’ve gotten better since then! I’ll show you how good I am!”

~~~~~

Forty-five minutes later, Jean found himself kissing the dirt after having a bearded short man run circles around him. A short sword crossed Jean’s back just as he looked up. The man remained expressionless, staring down Jean with dark grey eyes.

“Point!” The judge yelled, and the crowd roared.

“It’s okay Jean!” Filia yelled nervously.

“He’s just fine,” Torrin assured her. “Getting your butt kicked is part of the learning process.”

Filia looked at him worriedly. “But, if he gets hurt, his mother--”

“--Gourry and I will take responsibility. This is important to him.”

Lina was less kind with her comment. “C’mon, kid! Kick the old man’s ass! I thought you knew how to fight!”

Jean glared at her as he walked back to his side.

“Just remember to move your feet!” Samira shouted. She turned to Filia. “He’s too nervous to focus right now. He was doing just fine this morning, even before I helped him.”

Filia shook her head. “I just don’t understand why. It’s one thing to fight with his brothers, but this contest always brings out the local ruffians. They might not intentionally hurt anyone, but still…”

“He mentioned a girl before,” said Samira.

“Yeah, he wanted to show he could protect her, so he signed up,” said Gourry. “She wasn’t too happy about it though.”

In the arena, Jean was doing his best to dodge his opponent’s swings.

Normally, this would be easy, but the old man had a pair of legs shorter than his and less body to cover, making it difficult to find an opening. What made it even worse, the old man’s legs at times moved as if they were independent of his body. They led and the rest of him followed.

Jean decided to take a chance and lunged straight for his chest. It made contact right before the old man knocked the cutlass away. The point was given to Jean.

“That’s it!” shouted Gourry. “That one’s for Miranda!”

“Miranda?” Filia repeated, confused. “But she hates fights!”

“But it’s not just fighting. Jean wants to protect her,” Gourry explained.

“Even more, he said he was willing to die for her,” Torrin added.

That really struck a chord with Filia.

She knew what happened to Jean’s father months ago and how Miranda supported him through that tough time. His father’s ship was also the same ship Filia convinced Samira not to go on simply because Filia wanted her to stay a little longer. The bad news arrived just two weeks later.

“It was his father, wasn’t it?” she asked, certain.

“Yes,” Torrin replied, watching Jean, now starting his third round. “Many make that promise to die for someone, but few are willing to go through with it.”

“And this is just Jean’s way of proving that he can,” said Gourry.

Lina was quietly listening to the conversation, thinking how it was oddly familiar.

Gourry did not make the same kind of promise to her, yet, she always felt there was a purpose underlying his actions that suggested yes, he would die for her. Gourry might have randomly picked her out of many girls he could save, or already did save, but he never backed out once he made his decision to protect her.

Now, he was supporting a boy who made the same promise to his girl. _He even remembers the kid’s names. What’s with him and kid’s names anyway?_

Lina looked at Gourry, who was focused was on the fight and wondered just how deep his feelings were for her.

Everybody reacted at once to what was going on in the ring, making her jump. Lina turned around and saw Jean on his hands and knees again with a blade at his neck.

It was over.

Jean got back up, dusted himself off and walked out of the ring with a straight back, attempting not to break down or throw a fit.

Gourry managed to catch his shoulder before he could take off into the crowd. “Tough fight. You did your best.”

“Part of it was you’re just not used to fighting someone your size,” Samira said.

“He was smaller than me,” Jean stated at the ground, trying not to cry.

“You still have one more chance, Jean,” Filia said as she kicked into mother mode and started checking him out for injuries.

“Thanks, but I’m not hurt.” Jean gently waved her off.

“Well, you better pick yourself up soon because the rounds are much shorter this time,” said Torrin. “You can’t dwell on this. Think of your next fight.”

“That reminds me,” Samira pulled out a piece of paper. “Our fights happen around the same time, so we’ll be splitting up her in a minute.”

“All right, I guess that means we’ll have to split up the support as well.” Torrin pointed out. “Lina can go with Gourry. Jean, you can stick with Samira until it’s your turn again, and Filia…”

“I’m with you,” she smiled.

~~~~~

Now that Filia had finally joined them, Torrin was finding it very difficult to concentrate on fighting as he struggled through the next round of matches. He was dreading the talk with Filia even more than ever. Lina’s little interruption had made it worse as he lost a good chance to do it privately by losing his temper again. It was not easy to take back a rejection as it was.

Filia noted that Torrin seemed a bit troubled while out in the ring. There was no major flaw in his fighting style, it just appeared to her that he was drawing the matches out a little more than needed, like he was thinking of something else.

The crowd did not mind as it made for good entertainment, so Filia kept quiet and smiled at Torrin after each round in a match. He would smile back, but the troubled look on his face remained.

At another ring, Gourry was having a great time, not having any trouble getting through a single match while Lina watched. She had seen him in countless sword fights before, but this time she watched him with great interest.

The conversation from before stuck with her and had her thinking.

Up until recently, Lina had always rejected the idea of Gourry as possible boyfriend material, though she knew she cared for him deeply. She had known about those feelings since a year after they met. However, with any mention of taking it further, Lina immediately found excuses of why that would not work.

_But can it work?_ she asked herself several times.

There was nothing in the way keeping Lina from finding out, yet she had not made a move. And what if she waited too long, like Luke? That incident was almost too painful for her to think of, and the worst part was Luke never admitted his love for Milina. She died never knowing what he really felt about her, and that tore Lina up more than anything.

In the end, Lina decided to give it more thought and try thinking of a way to get over her nerves; the only self-imposed barrier she really had.

Jean experienced a real turnaround in his next match. Samira was not there to coach him from the sidelines, but she gave him a couple of ideas before taking off. It was a relief when he found out his next opponent was taller than him. Somehow, it made him feel more confident.

The man was not easy to maneuver around, but Jean put his new moves into practice and managed to dodge every swing. After three long rounds, he was declared the winner.

He was hanging around the sidelines waiting for the next round of matches to begin when he noticed something pink moving among the spectators. At first, Jean assumed it was Samira coming to watch for a minute, but as he downed a cup of water from one of the aides, he realized the pink mass was short…and had strawberry blonde hair.

Jean spewed water everywhere. “Oh, crap.” 

Miranda stepped out of the crowd, picking up her skirts to avoid catching any stray straws from the hay bales and walked up to Jean who was rooted into place with dread. Her face was serious, but there was no anger this time.

“Hello, Jean,” she said

“U-u-uh, M-mirand-da,” he stuttered, “I-I th-thought-”

“I still don’t like it,” Miranda interrupted, “But I know you, and you don’t like quitting once you make up your mind.”

Jean stared at her in surprise, not knowing what to say. All day he bemoaned the fact that she refused to come see him, and here she was.

_What am I supposed to do now?_

Miranda was a little bothered by his staring. “Well?”

Jean shook himself out of it. “T-thank you, I-I guess…”

“How far are you?” she asked, softening her tone. It was hard considering she _was_ still a little angry.

He ran his fingers through his hair nervously. “Um, I…have one more before the finals,” Jean breathed out slowly.

That came as a surprise to Miranda. “Only one?”

“Well, I’ve already lost one match. If I lose one more time, I’m out,” he explained.

“I didn’t think you would be able to hold out on your own,” said Miranda, a little impressed. “This contest usually brings out the local bullies.”

“Not as many as you would think, but yeah, I’m kinda surprised myself.” Jean felt his heart quicken at her compliment. “Anyways, my next match won’t be for another twenty minutes. They have to make sure everyone’s finished first.”

“Okay then,” Miranda nodded. “I’ll wait with you.”

~~~~~

Though he was still nervous, Jean made himself talk with Miranda as they waited, mostly about how her mother’s shop was doing, and as time went on, he noticed the slight touchiness in her voice faded away. He was starting to believe what Gourry said the day before, that Miranda only reacted the way she did because she honestly cared for him.

It gave him some hope that she would eventually understand why he was doing this.

When it was time for him to fight again, he entered the arena calmly like a large weight had been lifted off. He looked over to Miranda who smiled timidly. The idea of fighting still unsettled her.

A tall, well-built man Jean recognized stepped into the ring. The last time Jean saw him, it took about fifteen minutes before Gourry finished him off. They were both expert swordsmen who knew their stuff, so Jean knew he would have to rely on more than just his sword to win.

At the judge’s signal, the man took out his broadsword, and as Jean took out his cutlass, he heard some laughter among the cheers. They were comparing him, but Jean did not care.

When they were given the signal to start he charged, aiming for the man’s legs. However, the swordsman blocked his way, so Jean quickly stepped to the side using his blade to keep himself from running into the broadsword.

The swordsman turned his blade towards Jean like a great windmill, forcing Jean to sidestep and buffer with his cutlass again. This similarly happened again three times before Jean made a misstep and the broadsword caught him at the neck. Jean fell down cutting his left cheek on the edge of the blade and severely bruising his right knee and arm.

A huge ‘Oh!’ came from the spectators. Miranda gasped, covering her mouth and trying very hard to resist the urge to run out and help Jean.

It was his first _real_ injury. Jean already had a few minor cuts and bruises that he usually did not notice until after a fight, so he tried to brush this one off as well and attempted to get up. His knee gave out and he fell down again.

The swordsman offered a hand. “You all right, son?”

“Yeah.” Jean took his hand and painfully stood up.

“You can quit now if you want. You don’t look too good,” said the swordsman.

Jean looked over to Miranda. She was looking very scared at this point.

He looked back to the swordsman. “No. I want to keep going.”

The swordsman nodded. “Alright.”

They both stepped back to their side of the ring. 

Jean changed tactics the next round, letting the swordsman go on the offensive first, but he did not fare much better. He mostly rolled around and danced his way out of the man’s reach, until by chance Jean managed to catch him in the back.

By then, his arm and knee began to throb. Jean looked over to Miranda one last time. She was smiling encouragingly now.

_I have to get through this,_ he thought.

The last round was short. In the middle of one of his tumbles, a sharp pain went through Jean’s knee and his legs could not get out of the way in time.

The broadsword hit both of them.

A judge ordered Jean to go down on his knees in the middle of the arena. He could not look at Miranda this time. There was no chance of him winning against a broadsword with no legs and a small cutlass.

But he did not surrender.

When the last signal was given, the swordsman swung at his neck. Jean stared up at the man defiantly and did not flinch.

“Point!” the judge said.

Jean had lost.

~~~~~

“I’m sorry,” Jean said as Miranda bandaged up his wrist.

Miranda had dragged him to a nearby flower shop without saying anything after the fight. She knew the owner well and asked them to bring antiseptic and bandages while she made her way towards the big sinks near the back of the store with Jean. The back room was stuffed with flowers ready to quickly restock because of the festival, and it gave Jean quite a headache.

Miranda finished the bandage. “Well, you should be.” Her prickly tone was back.

“I had a reason,” Jean said.

She stood up, having enough of his ‘reasons.’ “Because of your father, right? I don’t _care_ if you can be as tough as he is!”

“But it was for you, Miranda! What would you want me to do if _you_ were in trouble?” Jean shot back. “Leave you to die?”

“I would rather _die_ than see you killed!” Miranda yelled. She felt the back of her throat tighten as she spoke.

She picked up her skirts to leave but Jean pulled her down to his level with his good arm.

He stared at her intently. “That’s just it! I would rather die too than see _you_ killed!”

Silence.

Miranda did not try standing up this time, and instead she frantically shook her head. “No! I won’t let you die! Don’t be like your father! You have to stay here!” She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head in his shoulder. “I don’t want you to go with your brothers! It’s too dangerous…” her choked up at the end and all she could get out was a sniffle.

“Miranda…” Jean put his arms around her. “I can’t stay here forever.”

“Yes…you…can…” Her sniffles became sobs.

“But that’s not fair. If you wanted to go somewhere, would you want me to hold you back?” he asked.

They held on to each other for a minute, then finally Miranda sat up slowly, still sniffling. She did not mean to break down in front of him. She knew Jean hated that, but he was acting unusually calm. It scared her. Normally, Jean was either pleading or running away whenever her emotions got away from her.

“I missed you all day,” Jean said. “I almost couldn’t do it because you weren’t there.”

“Then why did you?” Miranda asked staring at her hands now in her lap.

“I already told you. I want to protect you,” he said.

“But…but…” She could not say anything else. There was nothing left to say.

Jean could see on her face she finally beginning to accept it, and he smiled. “No buts. I’ve made my decision.”

Miranda’s sniffles were now gone. She took a few deep breaths.

“You understand now?” Jean asked.

She understood.

She understood all along, but she did not want to face it. When Miranda saw him fighting earlier, she could not help but admire how he held up so long in a very uneven match. He even refused surrender when he knew he was beaten.

It was almost sacrificial. _Just like his father._

What Jean was willing to do was not easy, and Miranda admitted to herself the right thing never was.

_And didn’t I say I would the same thing for him?_

Jean watched her as she became very still. He leaned in closer. “Miranda?”

Miranda looked up and leaned forward, kissing him squarely on the mouth.


	5. Good Old Fashioned Festival Fun Part V

#  ~* SLAYERS: FALLEN STARS *~

## Chapter 12: Good Old Fashioned Festival Fun Part V

A few seconds later, Jean pulled away from Miranda’s lips.

The warmth from them still tingled where they had touched his. His headache from the flowers around them faded a little, and Jean did not notice anything else in the room but Miranda.

Miranda blushed, thinking maybe she went a little too far, but the look on Jean’s face was more of wonderment than disgust. “Jean-?”

Jean pulled Miranda off her seat, put his arms around her, and kissed her back. He never thought kissing a girl could feel _this good._

Miranda’s arms wrapped around his neck, pulling them closer together. Jean felt her mouth open slightly, so he stuck out his tongue like he had seen teenagers do.

Miranda jerked back a little in surprise.

“Sorry!” Jean yelped.

“No, I… I-Its okay.” Determined not to ruin the moment, Miranda kissed Jean again, but she allowed her mouth to be opened on purpose this time.

Jean responded more bravely and tried the tongue thing again. They spent a couple of minutes trying to get it right. Eventually they found somewhat of a rhythm without clacking their teeth too much.

A short time later, Miranda heard the florist’s footsteps coming closer from behind the door, and she panicked. She shoved Jean, who was by then not paying attention to _anything_ beyond what his mouth was doing, backwards off his seat, knocking the air out of him, just in time for the florist to open the door.

A pretty middle-aged woman with long wavy brown hair stared at them confusedly. “Miranda, you okay? It got quiet back here, so I was worried.”

“E-everything’s f-fine, M-miss Anna!” Miranda couldn’t control the horrible stutter in her voice.

Jean, now jolted back into reality, got up carefully and straightened himself out in his seat. “I just fell back.”

“I can see that,” said Miss Anna. “You need to be more careful. I don’t need you getting yourself killed in the back of my shop after the stupidity you pulled participating in that contest today.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jean answered. He eyed Miranda, who was pale faced and looked sick to her stomach.

Miss Anna sighed. “Okay. If everything’s fine, I need you two to get moving. I have one final delivery coming shortly, and I won’t have any room left back here.”

Miranda nodded stiffly, not saying anything, and grabbing Jean’s hand, made her way out of the shop.

When they were two streets away from the shop, Miranda apologized. “I’m so sorry, Jean. She’s my mother’s best friend, and I could let her see us like that.”

“Um, that’s okay, but can we do that again?” Jean asked.

Miranda stared at him. “What? We were in there for ten minutes doing nothing _but_ that!”

Jean scratched his head embarrassingly and grinned. “Yeah, but it was a lot of fun.”

“Ugh, please don’t tell me you’re gonna turn into one of those boys who only have one thing on their minds,” Miranda said as she rolled her eyes.

“Um, what one thing?” Jean asked, confused.

“I’ll let you figure that one out.” She began pulling him towards the East gate. “Right now, all I wanna do is dance.” It was the one thing she enjoyed doing whenever she was nervous.

“Okay. Then can we make out later?” Jean asked cheerfully.

“Listen, Jean!” Miranda huffed as she turned around, “If you’re going to expect me to-”

Jean caught her in his arms and kissed her. “Love you too, Miranda.”

“…Y-you love me?” she asked, her voice small.

“What did you think I was doing today?” he replied. “I’m not willing to die for just anyone, you know.”

Miranda blushingly pushed him away. She grabbed his hand again. “Come on, silly goose. Let’s go dance.”

~~~~~

The sun was setting behind the mountains as the semi-finals were coming to a close. Samira went in search of Jean after her last match and came across Filia watching Torrin anxiously. Torrin himself did not look any better.

“He’s not concentrating,” Samira noted.

“I know,” Filia replied, never taking her eyes of the match. “He’s been on edge since the semis started.”

Torrin managed to lock his opponent’s sword down with his axe and catch him in the neck with his knife, ending the match. The point was awarded, and he walked towards Filia and Samira feeling a little worse for wear.

“So, you think you’re ready for the finals?” asked Samira.

Torrin opened his mouth to say something, but Janna’s voice rang out from the crowd, greeting them. She was still wearing the turkey costume and was tugging a tall young man also dressed up as a bird with his right arm in a sling.

“Filia! Oh, I’m so glad I found you! Did I miss anything?” she chirped. Then she spotted Samira and ran over to hug her. “I’ve been wondering if you would show up again!”

Samira hugged back. “I did tell you I never back away from a promise.”

“You’re just in time,” said Filia. “The finals will start soon.”

“Oh good! I never thought I would get out of the shop! And bird-brain here,” Janna jerked a thumb at her partner “Had to go and break his arm last night! He didn’t even tell me until just now!”

“What happened, Marcus?” asked Filia as she looked over his arm.

Marcus rubbed the back of his neck. “Fell down the stairs. I didn’t want to worry anyone.”

“Well, you certainly did a good job of that! I was looking all over for you last night!” Janna turned to Torrin. “Good thing Mr. Egan here took me out for a dance.” She winked.

Marcus looked at Torrin. “So, you’re…just like Miss Filia?”

“Yes, I am.” Torrin was getting a little tired of everyone pointing out that he was a dragon. Despite Filia’s reassurance, it still made him uneasy.

“I’ve been wanting you meet you! Janna talks about you all the time!” Marcus exclaimed.

Filia gave Janna a condescending look. “Yes, I’m sure she does.”

Much of what her girls at the shop were saying about Torrin and Gourry were a little too graphic for the ears of innocent boyfriends.

Janna laughed nervously. “Heheh, yeah well, Marcus would’ve been in the contest today, but sadly his accident forced him to quit.”

Marcus laughed with her, not completely sure why. “It’s a real shame. Going up against a dragon would have been amazing!”

“Maybe you’ll have your chance, as soon as your arm is healed.” Torrin was hesitant to mention that he could heal it himself, so he said nothing.

But sure enough, Marcus asked, “Say, do you know of anyone who can perform a healing spell? There aren’t many on this continent who can.”

Filia cleared her throat. “And I’m not one of them?”

Marcus flushed, embarrassed. “Oh um, I guess I could’ve gone to you, Miss Filia. I didn’t think of it at the time.”

“Well, then let me see it. You should’ve thought of it this morning.” Filia carefully took his arm out of the sling. “Now, hold still.”

A soft glow came from her hand. Marcus felt a warmth spread through his arm, and for a moment felt like it had fallen asleep. He then felt the bone snap into place, without pain, then his skin tingled as the nerves in his arm reawakened. Filia pulled her hand away.

Marcus flexed his arm, opening and closing his fist. “Amazing.”

“I never get tired of watching that,” Janna said, amazed herself.

“Shall we get going?” Samira suggested. “I’m sure Mr. Gourry is done with his last match by now.”

“Sure thing!” agreed Janna. “But let’s get something to eat too. I’m starving!”

As they headed towards the next arena, Janna hung back and pulled Torrin aside. “Have you talked to her yet?” she whispered.

“I was thinking about it, until you showed up,” Torrin whispered back.

“But you had all day!” Janna said frustratingly. “What about before the semis? Didn’t all of you get a break?”

“Lina managed to ruin that for me,” Torrin grated.

“How?” Janna asked.

“She…got into a food fight with Jean, and I lost my temper,” he admitted with some effort. “I couldn’t do it with everyone staring at me.”

“Well, you have another chance coming up. I’ll tell her you’re waiting for her at the dance platforms. You’ll have an hour. Don’t waste it, okay?” With that, Janna caught up with the rest of the group and started chatting away.

“I’ll try,” Torrin grumbled to himself.

~~~~~

They found Lina and Gourry at arena twelve celebrating Gourry’s latest victory. Apparently, Gourry suffered a small gash from his opponent’s mace when it came down a little too hard on his arm. Aside from his injury, Gourry was in high spirits as Lina healed him.

While they set off for the snack stands to wait for the finals to start, Torrin made an excuse to look for Jean, who was still missing, and hurried over to the East gate to wait at the dancing platforms.

The mountains’ shadow now kept much of the town in the dark, but the sun was still shining brightly on the East end, fighting a losing battle with the gloomy peaks encroaching upon it. On the other side, deep blue clouds gathered above the Demon Sea, threatening to give the festival goers a good shower later in the evening. Torrin observed them for about fifteen minutes wondering if what he was about to do was the right thing.

He was still thankful for Janna’s enthusiasm and support, but after allowing himself too much time to think it over again Torrin was in doubt.

Filia’s dress could be seen coming several blocks away even with the sun shining in Torrin’s eyes. He watched her for a couple of minutes as he made one last effort to convince himself to take this chance. _I’ll be spending a lot of time with her the next few months if things go to hell. I need to resolve this now._

Filia rushed up when she finally spotted him.

Torrin put on a smile, so as to not worry her. “I should start calling you ‘Tulip.’ That dress is very eye-catching.”

Filia smiled back at his compliment. “Mrs. Gillet’s beaten you to it. But then, she’s been naming all her girls after flowers during the festival. She found it was easier to keep up with all of them.”

“So, you’re one of her girls now?’ Torrin teased.

“I guess so!” replied Filia. Then her smile faltered a little. “What is it you’ve been wanting to talk to me about?”

“There are…several things, actually.” Torrin gently took her hand and led her over to a platform. “First, I wanted to give you the dance I owe you.”

“But, you don’t owe me one,” said Filia as they took their position and began moving around the platform.

“For what I’m about to ask, hopefully it’ll make up for my stupidity,” said Torrin. “But let me ask you this first. Have you thought about where you would go if things in the monster world suddenly got crazy?”

Filia immediately wanted to grab her pendant, but fought the urge. “No, not lately. Why?”

“I was thinking maybe you can come stay with my clan,” Torrin suggested. He had figure this one out a long time ago, but with everything that happened lately he hesitated to mention it.

“I don’t know. What about Val?” The idea of Val surrounded by strange dragons made Filia nervous.

Torrin tried to reassure her. “The Dimos do not have anything against Ancient dragons. I know we’re not as strong magically, but we have a tough defense and a special magical barrier that’s been there since before the Dimos came. Its literally one of the safest places in the world.”

Filia looked down, still not sure. There have not been any issues regarding the current power grab going on between monster factions. It felt a little silly at this point to even consider moving. If she ever had another nightmare attack, she doubted moving would even help.

“Have you experienced any losses in your abilities?” Torrin asked, breaking into her thoughts.

She shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of, other than being unable to sense monsters. I didn’t have any problems healing Marcus’ arm.”

“That’s pretty good, considering your age,” said Torrin. “You need to tell me if anything else happens. If it gets worse, you’ll need another dragoness to help. It’s not just about monsters, it’s also about your health.”

Filia still did not bother to look up. “I’ll think about it. But, what about…Lord Milgazia?”

“I told you I would deal with him when the time comes.” Torrin let go of her hand for a moment to nudge her chin up. “Val will be fine,” he said gently. “He shouldn’t be hidden away from the rest of his kind anyway. As his mother, it’s your responsibility to give him a healthy view of the world.”

Slowly, Filia nodded her head in agreement. “I promised that I would make up for everything my race did to him.”

Torrin still thought of it as a burden that was not hers to bear and again did not voice his opinion on the matter. He would deal with that later. “Okay then. And promise me that you will not reveal your condition to Xellos. I don’t think he understands what’s going on. He probably just thinks you’re too used to him to notice his presence half the time.”

“Well, he hasn’t bothered to ask.” Filia never really thought about it, but Xellos did not appear to realize anything was out of the ordinary. “I only failed to sense him twice, and the third time he showed up, I was under attack.”

“Good.” _One less thing to worry about,_ Torrin thought. “And that pendant will help mask it, so never take it off.”

_That’s what Xellos said._ Xellos was not what Filia wanted to dwell on at the moment. The thought of last night crept in, stealing away any enjoyment from her time in Torrin’s arms.

_Damn him._

Filia shut it out. She looked into Torrin’s concerning green eyes and felt a tug in her chest. 

She asked gently, “So, what do you owe me this dance for?”

Now Torrin _had_ to address the final issue at hand. _Here we go._

He took a deep breath. “I…wanted to ask you…how do you feel about me?”

Filia felt her heart stop for a moment, and she stared at him. “I thought…you said…we couldn’t…” She struggled to put a full sentence together but only managed a confused, _“Why?”_

“I made a mistake,” Torrin said plainly. “I want to know if I still have a chance.”

Inside her head, Filia could hear herself screaming _Yes!_

However, another voice claiming to be sanity was recounting to her all the reasons why this would not work. She finally answered with what was probably the weakest excuse. “I’ve never courted before…”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” replied Torrin. He could tell she was having trouble collecting her own thoughts and tried to draw them out the best he could. “Don’t think about what other dragons do. You’re not part of a clan anymore, and I can tell you that dragon courtships aren’t always what they’re built up to be. You’ve already shown me you’re capable of making your own decisions. I meant it when I said you should be proud of yourself for what you’ve accomplished.”

Relief and happiness slowly sank in for Filia, squashing the ‘sane’ voice with their weight.

“What about you?” she asked. 

Torrin lifted her hands up to his neck and encircled his arms around her waist to pull her close. He had been wanting to do this all day. “I think about you all the time. I’ve been beating myself over the head about you. I’ve had to endure Janna’s relentless curiosity to the point of being convinced I had to ask you for another chance.”

Filia flushed madly and was having a hard time not giggling. “Janna always tries to take good care of me. I’ll have to thank her for it.”

“Just as long as you tell me what you want,” Torrin said, smiling.

Filia flushed even more at his comment as she was trying her best not let her thoughts fall into the gutter.

_Now, Filia, you know better than that,_ she scolded herself. But one recent memory was taking hold, and she had to put a little distance between her and Torrin before she reduced herself into a laughing fit.

With a huge grin on her face, she let go of Torrin’s neck to adjusted herself to a safer dancing distance, but as Filia did so, her hands slid down Torrin’s chest.

The motion made Torrin’s heart jump, and he silently hoped she did not notice.

Filia was all too aware of what she just did, but it was too late to take it back. A male dragon’s chest was sensitive to the touch and can be easily aroused by it. She heard a funny story once about dragons encrusting their front side with treasure they hoarded because they were the most vulnerable there.

_One part of that story was true, for sure,_ she thought as she stared at her hands a little too long.

_Now._ Torrin covered her hands with his before she could pull away, and before he had time for second thoughts he pressed his lips against hers just as she looked up at him.

Out of nowhere came Jean’s voice. “Hey! Miss Filia!”

Filia immediately backed away before Jean had them in full view, leaving Torrin a little frustrated.

Jean came up to them with Miranda in tow. He halted when he noticed Torrin. “Oh, are the semis over?”

“Yes,” Torrin said keeping his irritation in check. “And where were you this whole time?”

“I was beaten out.” Jean grinned nervously.

“But he was very brave about it,” Miranda interjected. “He didn’t give up, even when he got hurt.”

Torrin looked at her curiously. “And you are…?”

“That’s Miranda,” said Filia. She turned to the girl. “I thought you said you weren’t coming?”

Miranda squeezed Jean’s hand. “I changed my mind,” she said blushingly.

Torrin studied them for a moment. The two apparently had made amends. _Makes two of us,_ he thought.

He then looked over to the mountains and saw that the sun was now completely hidden behind them. “We better head back.”

“Wait,” Filia urged, “I need to heal Jean first.”

“Aww, but Miss Filia--” Jean started.

“No buts,” Filia insisted. “I’m not letting you go home like that. I don’t want your mother to worry.”

Jean looked over to Miranda who nodded. “She’s right. You’re mom would have a fit.”

“Alright,” Jean sighed. He did not want to face the wrath of his mother and aunts, but he was rather proud of his injuries as they were much like his first ‘battle scars.’

Filia stooped down to his level. “Just point me where and hold still.”

She did his knee and ankle first, then moved to the cut on his cheek, and finally his arm. The arm took a little longer than expected.

“Did you know you had a hairline fracture in your wrist?” Filia asked.

“Um, no.” Jean stared at his right arm. “How could you tell?”

“It comes with the ability to heal.” Filia stood back up. “Next time, don’t hesitate to come to me when you get hurt, okay?”

Jean nodded obediently as he kept staring at his arm. “Wish I could do that myself.”

“Most people can do simple spells, if they just apply themselves,” said Filia.

“But, how can you tell if someone can do it?” Jean asked.

“There are ways. You might want to ask Miss Lina about it,” Filia suggested. “She’s one of the most powerful sorcerers in the world.”

“That red-haired lady’s a powerful sorceress?” Jean exclaimed in disbelief.

“I know, I was surprised myself, but she’s the real deal,” added Torrin. “But we better get going. You can ask her about it during the finals.”

They made their way to some nearby steps. Jean and Miranda went first, followed by Torrin, then Filia last.

Filia took one step down and suddenly felt very dizzy. She latched herself to the railing to keep herself from falling. Her stomach felt queasy, and her whole body shivered and grew cold, as if she lost a great deal of blood.

Torrin turned around in time to see her face pale and double over the railing like she was going to throw up, and he rushed over. “Filia!”

Jean and Miranda then turned around as well and came over to help.

Torrin pulled Filia toward him flopping her over into his arm. With Jean holding her other side, he guided her down the rest of the steps to an empty table at a nearby refreshment stand.

Miranda grabbed one of Filia’s hands in a panic. “Miss Filia! Are you okay?!”

Filia felt too sick to answer. She plopped onto the bench seat beside Torrin and laid her head down on the table.

“Can you understand what I’m saying Filia?” Torrin asked as calmly as possible. “Move your head if you can.”

Filia moved her head up and down.

“What happened?” asked Jean.

“I think she just wore herself out healing you,” said Torrin as he stroked Filia’s hair.

Miranda started crying and squeezing Filia’s limp hand.

Jean put an arm around Miranda as an attempt to calm her and himself. “Miss Filia, you didn’t have to do that.”

Torrin did not want to explain what was really happening, but seeing the kids upset, he could not leave them totally in the dark. “She’s going through…some changes. She’s a nursing mother, and it just throws her abilities out of whack, that’s all.”

“I-Is she…o-okay?” Miranda asked between sobs.

“She’ll be okay, as long as she rests for a little while,” Torrin reassured. He got up and turned to Jean. “I’ll need to tell the others. You two stay here, and don’t let her get up until the color comes back to her face.”

Torrin took off down the street, leaving Jean and Miranda alone to watch over Filia. Both of them sat down on either side of her to make themselves feel like they were giving Filia some sort of protection.

The ache in Filia’s stomach slowly diminished as each minute went by. Warmth returned to her body, and she was able to breathe more easily. She maneuvered her head in her arms to the right so she could see what was going on around her.

Jean was sitting on that side. “You feeling better now, Miss Filia?” he asked when he saw her head move.

“Yes. Thank you, Jean.” Filia gave him a weak smile. “I am a little hungry though.”

She watched Jean jump up to get something from one of the stands and thoughtfully noted how much he was like Torrin. _I’m certainly in good hands tonight._

The dizzy spell had not dampened her spirits. At this point nothing could. All she could think about was the last part of the conversation she had with Torrin on the dancing platform. And the kiss.

It was short, and Filia knew that Torrin did not like the interruption. She saw it all over his face he wanted to continue. It made her happy to see the affect she had on him.

“Um, Miss Filia?” It was Miranda’s voice.

Filia lifted her head carefully to look at her. Her face was red from the tears, but she was no longer crying. “What is it, Miranda?”

“What was Mr. Egan doing here with you?” she asked.

“W-we were talking,” Filia answered truthfully. “He needed to ask me a few things.”

“Oh.” Miranda looked in the direction Torrin went then looked back over to Filia and leaned over. “I think he really likes you,” she said, almost whispering.

“How can you tell?” Filia asked, feigning innocence.

“He looked so scared when he saw you get sick,” Miranda answered.

Filia stared at her for a moment. This was something she never bothered to assess. She understood Torrin had a protective side, but she never wanted to scare him out of his wits.

“Here you go,” Jean said hopping back with a plate of bread and cheese. “It’s better to eat something simple if you have a tummy ache.”

“Thank you, Jean. You’re very sweet.” Filia swept a hand through his hair affectionately.

Jean blushed a little and grinned. “You sure you don’t feel like throwing up anymore?”

“I’m feeling fine. The worst is over,” she assured him.

At that point a faint glow came from Filia’s pendant. Her stomach dropped.

Jean felt a strange shiver go through his body. “What’s that? Its making me tingle!”

Filia clamped the pendant in her fist. “He’s here.”


	6. Can't Fight What You Can't See

# ~* SLAYERS: FALLEN STARS *~

## Chapter 13: Can’t Fight What You Can’t See

“Who’s here?” Jean asked. The tingling grew stronger as the pendant grew brighter in Filia’s fist.

“Oh, um, nobody.” Filia let go of her pendant and got up from the table. “I need to go.”

She took the bread and cheese from her plate and devoured them in a few bites before running down the street, never minding the slight queasiness she still felt. Filia did not stop until she reached the town square.

The dozen or so arenas had been replaced by two slightly bigger ones surrounded by much bigger crowds. Filia pushed her way around, circling the two arenas a couple of times before she located Gourry and Lina. As she approached them she noticed Torrin and Samira were not with them.

“Lina!” Filia called out.

Lina turned around, and her eyes grew wide with concern. “Filia! Weren’t supposed to be passed out?”

“I’m better now,” Filia assured her despite being out of breath and still feeling at little nauseated. “Where’s Torrin?”

“He’s getting ready for his match.” Lina pointed over where he was standing by the entrance to the ring. “Its him and Samira first-are you _sure_ you’re okay? You look pale.”

“Yes-yes-I’m-fine!” Filia waved it off. She took a step forward and wobbled. 

Gourry reached over to steady her. “You should sit down.”

“I’m only a little dizzy. It’s okay,” Filia insisted.

“You ran all the way here, didn’t you? What’s the rush?” Lina asked as she looked Filia up and down, then saw the pendent glowing a very deep red.

“Xellos is around her somewhere,” said Filia, scanning the crowd.

~~~~~

The horrible tingling in Torrin’s spine was making him very uneasy. “I shouldn’t have left Filia alone.”

Samira recognized the agitation on his face. She had seen the same look on Filia many times before. “Concentrate on the match. If it’s Xellos, she will be fine.”

“So, you’ve met him?” Torrin asked, a little surprised. He did not realize his discomfort was so obvious.

“Oh, yes,” she said knowingly. “A very rude man, though he acts polite. Very hard to forget.”

“He’s not even a man. He’s a monster,” Torrin growled.

If he had known Xellos would bother showing up again so soon, he would not have abandoned Filia to fend for herself. She gave him such a scare when she nearly passed out, and he feared that the monster would get wind of her condition and try to take advantage of it.

A judge called out for them to take their positions. Torrin and Samira walked into the ring. Their weapons were drawn, and the match began.

Torrin had watched Samira a few times, but he was still surprised at her agility now that she was using those same moves on him. He kept his guard up, using speed to keep her from finding an opening. His axe fanned around, blocking blows from Samira’s swords while his knife tested her defenses.

About two minutes in, the negative energy he felt crawling down his back intensified making his arms shake and his legs to become unsteady. It caused him to misstep and leave himself open.

What happened next was too quick for most of the crowd to notice, but just as Samira moved in to lay a blow at Torrin’s neck, her body suddenly turned to the side, like she was pushed. Her sword missed Torrin.

The shaking disappeared, and Torrin regained his bearing, laying his axe across Samira’s back.

“Okay, what just happened?” Lina asked no one in particular.

“Uh, I think Samantha just lost that round,” said Gourry.

Neither Lina or Filia bothered to correct him.

Filia had felt her pendant vibrate for just a moment when Samira attempted to take advantage of Torrin’s mistake.

_He wouldn’t even be having trouble if he wasn’t still troubled about me,_ she thought.

Though a monster’s presence can cause even the most stoic dragon to quiver from being exposed to their energy, it normally wouldn’t detract a dragon’s attention from most dangerous situations.

Torrin helped Samira up. “Are you okay?”

“As well as I can be,” she answered. “I could tell when you stumbled it’s getting to you. You need to watch it, and not let your worry get in the way.”

“I’m trying.” Torrin took a quick look at the crowd.

_This would be too low for Xellos, unless he had a higher purpose in mind._ Higher purpose meaning orders from his mistress, or there was some gain she would benefit from.

Round two ended almost the same way, with Torrin being more careful with himself, but it was not easy. The unseen force did not bother to wait for him to make another mistake, and again, Samira wound up on the ground with Torrin’s axe on her back.

“Not again!” cried Lina. She looked over to Filia who was standing on her own now but still looked pale. “Did that thing go off?”

“Twice, but only for a second,” said Filia lightly, like she was concentrating very hard on something.

“Keep your guard up, Gourry,” said Lina as she cracked her knuckles. “We’ve got a monster screwing with us, and it might not be Xellos.”

“Right,” said Gourry, placing a hand on the hilt of his sword.

Filia disagreed but kept it to herself.

In the last round, Samira was far more reserved in her attacks, preferring that Torrin come to her instead. It seemed a bit pointless, seeing that she had already lost the match, but she wanted to see what would happen if it was Torrin making most of the offensive moves.

Torrin seemed to be thinking along the same lines. As the prickling of energy grew stronger again, he anticipated the force would either attempt another soft push on him, or favoring Samira, would make another move on her to make her vulnerable to his attack.

He was mostly right, except this time Samira was pushed _into_ him with a great deal of force. Torrin moved too late to completely avoid her body smashing into his arm like a rock, and they both hit the ground hard.

The crowd gave out a great _‘Oh!’_ and fell silent.

Lina, Gourry, and Filia jumped over the hay bales calling their names to see if they were okay.

Samira laid on top of Torrin’s right arm with the wind knocked out of her. Torrin, also out of breath, tried to gently move her off but felt a sharp pain go through his side. He then tried moving his arm, finding that he was still holding his knife in hand. He also felt another blade cutting against it.

“Get her up first,” said Torrin as the others reached them.

Gourry knelt down to help Samira. “Can you move?”

Samira only answered with a small whimper, but she was moving her arms with no problems. Gourry held onto her as she struggled to push herself up. She managed to get a couple of inches off of Torrin before she cried out in pain, and the strength in her arms failed.

“Careful!” Gourry pulled her up the rest of the way, revealing Torrin’s knife covered in her blood.

One of her swords had left a decent sized gash of its own in Torrin’s waist and rested dangerously on his wrist and fingers still clamped to the knife’s hilt. The knife itself was pointing up at a steep angle and had cut deep into Samira’s stomach.

Torrin quickly and painfully lifted himself into a sitting position and threw both blades away. “Oh shit.”

Lina got down on her knees. “Lay down Samira!”

Samira did as she was told with Gourry’s help. The crowd began murmuring anxiously, and both of the judges came over for a closer look.

Out of the crowd, Jean jumped out stumbling all over the place to reach them. “What happened?!” he asked worriedly as he came down beside Lina.

“We’ve been trying to figure that out! _Stay back!_ ” Lina almost snapped.

She laid her hands on Samira’s abdomen. Torrin joined her, despite his own injury. The two of them concentrated their energy on Samira for several minutes while everyone held their breath.

Jean reached out for one of Samira’s hands and held onto it like her life depended on it. He noted it grew very warm, as if the healing spell had so much magic concentrated it traveled throughout Samira’s entire body instead of staying in place where the mortal wound was.

When they finished, Samira could only feel a dull ache in her stomach and could sit herself up with without trouble. Everyone around them clapped a cheered when they saw this. To make sure she did not fall over, Gourry and Lina stood on either side of her as they left the ring.

Filia helped Torrin up without saying a word and offered for him to lean on her.

Torrin quietly watched her as she did and saw there was a great deal of fear in her blue eyes. He never meant to scare her so much, but earlier Filia had the same affect on him when she became ill. Torrin tried not to smile at this.

When Filia sat him down on a hay bale just outside the ring, he tugged on her arm to sit with him. Filia complied, holding his good hand.

Lina went to work on Torrin’s waist and hand while Janna, Marcus, and Miranda who showed up right after the incident started asking Samira numerous questions. Jean came up to her holding her swords and joined in.

“I think we’ve scared ourselves enough for one evening,” Torrin commented as he looked to Filia again.

“Yeah, I think so.” Filia braved a smile.

Torrin tilted slightly towards Filia to kiss her, but Filia shyly turned away blushing and focused on everyone else fussing over Samira.

“You know,” he said softly in her ear, “I’ll have to find a way to break you out of your shell more.”

“What are you talking about, Egan?” Lina asked curiously as she looked up at Torrin in time to see him pull away from Filia.

“Nothing,” said Torrin, nonchalant.

Jean pulled away from the others and handed him his knife. “I cleaned it off the best I could.”

“Thanks, Jean.” Torrin let go of Filia’s hand long enough to put the knife back in its sheath.

“All done!” Lina let go of Torrin’s hand. “If you ask me, this competition’s not worth continuing.”

“No, we’ll continue it,” Torrin insisted. “I want to draw those bastards out.”

“Mr. Egan has a point,” Samira said as she came over. “Staying in the competition might be the only way we’ll find out who’s behind it.”

Lina stared at them both pensively for a moment. “Fine. Have it your way.” She pointed to the arena and glared at Torrin. “But if Samira _or_ Gourry get hurt like that again, you’ll be answering to me, got it?”

~~~~~

The rest of the matches in that round ended without any sign of the invisible attacker. After watching Gourry struggle in his second match of the finals _without_ interference, Torrin began to suspect himself as the main target. 

This was confirmed when his next opponent was shoved into the blade of his axe as Torrin was making a mock blow to the neck. The injury was not serious, but the man gave up claiming that demons inhabited the ring whenever Torrin stepped foot in it.

It was hard for Jean to watch Samira lose her next match. Her final opponent was the now well-known broad-swordsman Gourry and Jean had gone up against. The match itself was a very close one with the third round determining the winner.

The swordsman himself was a good sport about it, claiming they were so well matched it could have gone either way. When Torrin heard the news he immediately asked about Samira’s injury, and she assured him that though it still ached it was not distracting.

Gourry was paired with the broad-swordsman in the extra round of the loser’s bracket while Torrin went up against the man who beat Gourry. The man heard about what happened in Torrin’s other two matches, but he was not intimidated and boldly claimed they were rumors, much like those of Torrin being a real dragon. Torrin thought of him rather arrogant and could not believe he actually defeated Gourry.

That arrogance was quickly swept away when, as expected, the unknown attacker focused on Torrin’s opponent and had the man stumbling everywhere like a clown. His own two feet refused to do anything he wanted, like they were being pulled by puppet strings.

Apparently, the crowd was never too fond of him either, and they laughed and taunted him mercilessly until the man surrendered in the third round.

Torrin was relieved no one was hurt but still thought it was a real dirty trick. He walked over to Filia who had been watching him alone since everyone else took off with Gourry when he lost.

She grabbed one of Torrin’s hands as he exited the ring. “Only one more to go ‘til it’s over.”

“Only if I win the next one, or it’ll be two. I have to lose twice,” said Torrin.

He leaned in to kiss her again, and she promptly turned away, pulling his hand to lead him through the crowd to the other arena.

Filia could feel her cheeks burning. She could not help but feel self-conscious whenever Torrin got close to her like that, though at the same time she would do anything to kiss him. _What is wrong with me?_

“I-I’d hate to see Gourry lose. Lina would throw a fit,” she said in an attempt to divert his attention.

Torrin sighed and decided to let it go. “As long as she doesn’t try to strangle me, I really don’t care,” he teased.

“That won’t happen, unless he becomes the next target,” she reminded him.

_That certainly won’t be anything to joke about._ Torrin squeezed Filia’s hand a little tighter.

As they continued to weave around the mass of people, Torrin noticed many of them were whispering as he walked by. The word was getting around.

Gourry was just starting his third round when they found the others. Filia dropped Torrin’s hand as soon as they were in sight.

Lina noticed them first and asked, “Did you win?”

Torrin smirked at her. “Yeah. You should’ve been there. He was dancing around like a crazed chicken at the end.”

“Good,” Lina said smugly. “He was a real jackass to Gourry.” She turned back around to watch the match, thoroughly satisfied.

Both Gourry and the broad-swordsman showed no signs of relenting, dragging the last round out to several minutes, until Gourry did a last second fake-out and took out a leg. It was then much easier to take his opponent out since it was tough to swing a big slab of metal from that position.

The final point was given, and everyone cheered.

The judges announced there was a twenty-minute break before the last match and encouraged the crowd to mingle and let them straighten the ring. They set about tossing the hay around the ground and adding lighting now that the light from the set sun had disappeared from the skies. Low rumbling came from the East, announcing a storm’s arrival.

The swordsman came over with Gourry so he could be introduced to Torrin. “He’s been wanting to meet you since this morning,” said Gourry. “His name is…uh…”

“Korey.” The man set his sword down and held out a large rough hand.

Torrin took it. “Good to finally put a name to a famous face.”

“It’s a shame I couldn’t get at crack at you,” said Korey as he leaned onto the hilt of his sword. “You probably get tired of hearing it, but it would have been something to go up against a dragon. From what I heard, you haven’t lost a single round within a match yet.”

“Thanks,” Torrin nodded. He found this man’s eyes carried years of experience that did not idly take on challenges like the young did so often, so the comment did not irk him as much as usual. “But maybe we’ll get a chance later if you’re willing to stick around.”

Korey sighed longingly. “Sadly, I’ll have to call it a night. Got some traveling to do in the morning. I come through this town often though, so I might see you around. By the way,” He leaned in closer, “I’ve heard rumors of demons possessing the ring when you’re in it. Any truth to it?”

“It’s magic,” Torrin corrected. “But I’m afraid I don’t know where its coming from.”

“I was there when they nearly took out your friend,” Korey nodded to Samira, who nodded back. “Be careful.”

“I want another crack at you!” Jean burst in.

“No Jean!” Miranda squealed worriedly.

Korey merely smiled as he picked up his sword and laid on one of his broad shoulders. “When you get bigger son.” He ruffled Jean’s hair. “You were very good out there. I bet your girl was very proud of you.”

Miranda blushed, and so did Jean when he looked at her.

Korey turned back to Torrin. “Good luck, and take care. I hope you find the culprit.”

With that, he nodded to Gourry then walked off through the thinning crowd.

“That,” Jean pointed, “Is an awesome sword.” He was very awestruck by Korey’s ability to wield such a powerful weapon with ease, even carrying it on his shoulder like it was nothing more than a slim rod.

“That’s for sure,” said Marcus, agreeing with him. Marcus was tall but lacked the musculature to handle such a heavy sword.

“That thing could break both of your necks without any effort,” commented Lina. It never ceased to amaze her how impressed guys were with pieces of metal.

She looked at Gourry. _It’s not the sword, but how it’s used that matters,_ Lina thought. The same could be said of any object.

Now that Gourry was to go up against Torrin, she began to feel a little worried. Only Torrin’s opponents have been attacked, and the same tactic was never used twice. Next time could be fatal.

Gourry noticed Lina staring at him. “Something on your mind, Lina?”

She shook herself out of it, trying not to blush. “Just win, okay?”

~~~~~

When the twenty minutes was up, the crowd thickened again, and Torrin and Gourry wished each other luck before taking their places in the ring. The old soldier who had made announcements throughout the competition took his place on the large podium, which had been moved to one side of the arena and made a short introduction of their finalists.

As soon as he finished, a judge signaled them to draw, and the last match began.

It did not take long for the stinging negative energy to return and wreak havoc on Torrin’s spine, but unlike the first time he kept himself completely focused. He knew what it wanted, and he only had to concentrate on making sure Gourry did not get hurt. He also trusted Gourry. They had fought each other the mountains for nearly a month, so Torrin could tell if Gourry suddenly made any unfamiliar moves. Likewise, Gourry could do the same for him.

The pendent around Filia’s neck never stopped glowing all evening, but now its light practically pulsated. She noticed Jean rubbing one of his shoulders continuously. “Something wrong?”

“That stupid tingle got stronger again,” he said. “It happens every time that thing gets brighter.”

Lina, who’s attention had been locked on Gourry waiting for the next attack, tore her eyes away from the match when she heard Jean’s comment. “You can feel its energy?”

“I guess,” Jean replied. “Is that normal?”

“Only for a magic user,” she said. “The energy in certain magical objects and some spells can be felt by someone with a certain level of magical capacity.”

Jean looked at her, confused. “Then why can’t I feel anything when you or Miss Filia heal somebody unless I’m touching them?”

“Most people wouldn’t be able to feel it unless they were the ones being healed,” Lina said adamantly. “When did that happen?”

“He was holding my hand while you and Torrin were performing a healing spell,” Samira commented. “I felt something go through my arm, but I was not sure where it was coming from.”

“But that’s not possible!” Jean exclaimed.

“It’s very possible,” Lina pointed before returning her attention back to the match. “You and I are gonna have a little talk later.”

Jean was beside himself. Never in his wildest thoughts did he ever imagine he could be a sorcerer.

Miranda had been listening to the conversation with great fascination. “I think it would be wonderful if you can become a sorcerer!” she said to Jean. “Think of all the people you could help!”

Jean looked up a Samira who responded, “A lot of responsibility comes with such power, but it can be used to benefit many.”

“I think that would be a great idea too,” said Janna putting a hand on Jean’s shoulder. “Just think, if bird-brain here,” she jerked a thumb at Marcus, “ever broke his arm again, he could come to you.”

“That’s a little harsh Janna,” said Marcus though he was laughing.

Janna turned on him. “But it’s just like you to go and do something like that and not tell me! Honestly, you worry me!”

“I know, and I’m sorry!” Marcus emphasized, kissing Janna’s cheek.

Filia fingered her pendant as she listened to them, wishing the match would be over already. Whoever was behind the attacks was holding off on their next move which was utterly nerve wracking for her and Lina.

Deep down, she still honestly thought Xellos was behind it all. _But what is his purpose?_

Lina was becoming agitated and was finding it difficult to stay still. “I wish they would just throw the match already,” she mumbled. “Anything to get the jerk attacker’s attention.”

Torrin backed away from Gourry, and both of them circled around each other for a minute while the crowd grew more excited to the point one could hardly hear themselves think. He then charged expecting Gourry to block him.

Gourry positioned himself to counter the attack but was suddenly pushed aside by invisible hands out of Torrin’s way, and his sword swiftly swung down on its own just catching Torrin in the stomach.

Torrin did not bother readjusting at the last second, though he felt it would not have made much difference as it happen too fast to do so properly. His abdomen stung with the good nick he just received as he turned around to Gourry who gave him a confirming nod.

“There it is!” Lina yelled, thoroughly relieved. “Don’t let ‘em get to you Gourry!”

“Should we do something about Torrin?” Filia asked. She clamped down on the pendant harder threatening to crush it with her dragon strength.

“If he stopped now, he’ll have to throw the match,” said Jean.

“They should do that anyway!” complained Lina.

Barely a minute into the second round, the negative energy surged back again, and as Gourry’s sword locked with Torrin’s axe, Gourry’s whole body was shoved forward with so much force, it almost knocked Torrin backwards.

Torrin dropped his knife and put his other hand on his axe handle and dug his heels in. He managed to employ his dragon strength against it this time, and Gourry strained to keep their weapons from unlocking and tearing into either one of them. They had to think of something quick before Gourry’s strength failed and his body smashed into the blades.

Filia felt the pendant vibrate intensely in her hand, and her heart quickened. “One of them will have to let go!” Her voice fell on deaf ears as the noise from the crowd reached a fevering pitch.

As if Torrin had read her mind, he allowed himself to fall backwards and threw Gourry over into the hay bales behind him. He quickly got up and laid his axe against Gourry’s throat, ending the round.

Filia and the others drew a collective sigh of relief. Gourry rolled over and gave a quick thumbs up to Lina as he got back on his feet.

“You better win this one Jellyfish!” Lina called out, not minding that he could not hear her.

Torrin and Gourry wasted no time getting back to their positions in the ring to begin the final round.

Gourry’s arms were aching from the extraordinary pressure they had just undergone. He hoped this was as bad as it would get though he sincerely doubted it.

When judge gave the signal to begin, Gourry’s worst fear was realized when his body was seized by a foreign energy, and he lost all control.

Torrin immediately realized something was seriously wrong. The negative energy attacked his spine like it was trying to split his body in two, causing him to shake horribly. He had almost no time to react to Gourry’s charge which he noticed was inhumanly fast.

Torrin blocked him, letting his dragon speed kick in and used it to counter each lightning-fast blow that came after. He saw the strain on Gourry’s face as he attempted to regain control.

_“I…can’t…stop...!”_ Gourry revealed the pain he was in through his voice.

“Don’t give up! Keep fighting it!” was all Torrin could say to him.

Lina was ready to hop in after them as the fight was becoming disturbingly familiar to her. “ _That’s it!_ I’m not going take this anymore!” She hoisted herself onto the hay bale in front of her, but Filia and Samira pulled her back.

“Don’t! You’ll get hurt!” Filia pleaded.

“You must let them finish!” said Samira.

Lina shook them off. “Then I’ll use a fireball!” She put her hands together and produced a small glowing ball of flame.

Filia threw her down to the ground and held her there. “I will _not_ let you put others in danger because you’re freaking out! I’m scared too, but this won’t help them at all!”

“F-fine! Fine!” Lina yelled out in frustration.

Gourry felt like he could faint from exhaustion any second, but his body kept going, laying one powerful blow after another and working every one of his muscles to the limit.

Torrin felt fatigue set in and the shaking refused to stop. One false move could cause serious damage to either one of them.

Then he remembered something from earlier in the day when he went up against Meldrick, the bowlegged, mace-wielding troll of a man he faced in his first match. It was risky, but Torrin did not feel like he had much of a choice now.

He had been following the rhythm of Gourry's swings, which were different from Gourry's normal style, and found that though they were almost too quick to keep up with, they were very predictable, like it was made to wear him down rather than defeat him with skill.

Torrin counted to three, then allowed the force of Gourry's next swing spin him around, and he caught Gourry in the side with the knife right before Gourry's sword cut Torrin in the back.

Gourry’s body was released to his control again, and collapsed to the ground alongside Torrin.

The crowd erupted as a loud crack of thunder shook the air, and the tournament was over.


	7. Goodbye, Goodnight, and Don't forget a Kiss

# ~* SLAYERS: FALLEN STARS *~

## Chapter 14: Goodbye, Goodnight, and Don’t forget a Kiss

Lina and Filia were the first to jump into the ring to help. Gourry laid on the ground too tired to move, and Torrin was hunched over on his knees in pain but thankful the ordeal was over.

“Hey, Egan,” Torrin heard Lina say.

Torrin lifted up his head to see a fist come at is left eye, and he fell over into a nearby stack of hay.

Filia pulled Lina away. “Stop it!”

But the sorceress fought her grasp. “That’s for putting Gourry in danger!”

“Miss Lina, calm down!” Janna pleaded as she and Samira ran up to them. Marcus, Jean, and Miranda were behind them, staring at Lina embarrassingly.

Torrin wrestled himself out of the hay. _“What the hell are you trying to do to me!”_ he yelled, losing his temper. _“I did what I could to save his life!”_ His voice nearly cracked because he was still feeling the shakes even though the negative energy had completely disappeared.

Lina ignored him and kneeled beside Gourry to work on his wound. She could not say it, but the last round terrified her out of her wits. The last time someone took control of Gourry she thought she would never see him again.

_See what you made me do Jellyfish?_ she mentally scolded as she turned Gourry on his side to get a better look at his injury.

Gourry moaned with exhaustion as he stared up at her. “Are you worried, Lina?”

“Worry about yourself!” she retorted. She laid her hands on his side and began healing him.

Filia knelt down in front of Torrin and gently touched the left side of his face where he had been punched feeling quite useless. She wished she could be the one who healed his wounds, but she did not want to risk another fainting spell. She could not take care of Val later if she passed out.

“You okay?” Filia asked softly.

Torrin clasped Filia’s wrist and traced the outer edge of her palm with his lips. Her touch made him forget the pain he felt on his back for a moment. “I am now. Thank you, Tulip.”

Filia caught the meaning and flushed. She tried to get up, but Torrin kept a firm grip on her wrist. He was not going to let her get away this time.

He leaned over to try kissing her again, but a group of big rough looking guys came over, surrounding him and congratulating him for his victory. They were the same men Torrin and the others spent lunch with.

Meldrick, who he got the idea to win his final match from, and the old general who went up against Samira in her first match stepped forward and helped him up to his feet. Filia was silently thankful for the interruption. She still could not bring herself to be intimate in front of so many people.

“I knew ya’d do it!” Exclaimed Meldrick. “Tha’ wus a good match!”

Lina glared at him as she finished with Gourry’s wound. “Excuse me! I think Gourry deserves a little credit here! He was possessed after all!”

“Meant no disrespect miss,” Meldrick replied. “I knew wut wus happenin’. Tha’ fellow ‘o yours put up a good fight.” He saw Gourry get up and turned to him, putting out a hand to help him up. “I wus a bit worried there. If some wacko wasn’t messin’ wit ya, it wouda been an even closer match.”

“Thanks for the compliment,” said Gourry as he took Meldrick’s hand and stood up with some effort. It did not matter to him that he lost. It was only a tournament after all.

Lina stood up as well, still annoyed.

She felt there ought to be a rematch, but without knowing who was behind the attacks still, it was a bad idea to risk Gourry getting hurt again over something this trivial. That did not make her feel any better though as she was rather proud of Gourry’s skill.

“You’re right,” Torrin replied to Meldrick’s comment to Gourry. “I’ve been training with him for a month. It’s like he’s either a dragon, or he’s got elfish blood in him.”

Torrin intended his remark to be taken in jest, but he saw Lina grin widely as she crossed her arms and replied, “Actually, he does.”

“It’s true!” Gourry said with an innocuous smile.

Torrin looked back and forth between Lina and Gourry. “So, that’s where that natural talent comes from,” praised Torrin. “I knew you weren’t just an ordinary swordsman.”

“Okay, enough chatting. Turn around Egan,” Lina ordered, feeling a little better now. “Can’t leave ya to bleed to death.”

Torrin did as he was told without complaint because the sting from his back wound was getting worse, and Lina went to work. He watched the others for a minute in silence as they chatted away, and Jean went around offering challenges. Filia herself was standoffish, occasionally glancing in Torrin’s direction.

He felt the warmth on his back fade as Lina finished. “Now, turned around,” she said. He did.

A few seconds later as Lina was almost finished with the cut on his stomach, Torrin felt the need to apologize. His anger from before was merely reactionary and had nothing to do with Lina herself that time. “I’m sorry about Gourry. I know what he means to you.”

Lina was taken off guard by his sudden politeness towards her. “H-he…I-is a good friend,” she stuttered.

“And much more to you,” Torrin added.

He found it rather endearing that a hot-tempered sorceress could fall this hard for a simple swordsman. Her feelings were written all over her face.

“I’m done.” Lina got and walked away attempting to hide her red face.

_I hate it when someone sees through me like that._

Though she could admit to herself what she felt, she was not ready to share it with everybody else. She wanted to share it with Gourry first but just needed to find the courage to do it.

_Argh! This is so frustrating!_

~~~~~

The arenas were overrun with people as they gathered for the awards ceremony. Winners of other contests ranging from pie eating to art came up to the podium one by one to claim their awards.

Most of the first-place prizes were money or valuable gifts, and the rest were given medals or smaller gifts. Janna herself won third place amongst more experienced potters and expressed her gratitude by dragging Marcus to the podium and giving him a big kiss in front of everyone.

The night air was turning cold and windy, knocking over lamps and blowing hay straws all over the square. Rumbling clouds rolled by lighting up the sky, but there was no sign of the rain it promised. Nonetheless, the officiates of the contests hurried along giving out their awards just in case there was a sudden downpour while trying to make sure the winners were given their due applause from the crowd, and if they wished, a quick word of thanks.

The last one to announce winners was the most anticipated weapons tournament. Gourry went up first to claim his medal and small bag of money amongst deafening cheers.

Then it was Torrin’s turn.

He took Filia’s hand as his name was called. “Come with me.” He had an idea to get through her shyness.

“W-wait, what?” She looked back at the others who were a little confused themselves, except for Janna who winked. She turned back to Torrin. “Why are you--”

“--Just come with me.” Torrin pulled her through the crowd and up the steps of the podium.

“AND HERE HE IS LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!” the announcing old soldier boomed, and the crowd renewed its applause.

Torrin let go of Filia’s hand and walked over to claim his prize. Filia’s eyes darted nervously about the mass of townspeople below her, many of whom she knew well, and was hit with sudden stage fright. She felt her knees grow weak, threatening to give out from under her, and clasped her hands in front of her in an attempted keep herself calm.

The announcer handed Torrin his first place medal and a slip of paper. “Since the sum of money was too large to give to you in person, here’s a bank note. Congratulations!”

“Thank you.” Torrin motioned to Filia to come closer. “I wish to make this out to Filia Ul Copt.”

The old soldier scratched his scraggily beard and smiled shrewdly. “I see.” He turned to the crowd. “MR. EGAN HERE HAS DECIDED TO DONATE HIS WINNINGS TO THIS LOVELY LADY,” he waved a hand towards Filia, “FILIA UL COPT!”

More applause erupted in praise of the gesture.

“What?!” Lina blurted out. “Why on earth would give up the prize money?!”

“I think it’s wonderful!” said Janna. “He’s showing how much he cares.”

“But still!” Lina moaned. “There’s probably enough on that check to live on for a full year!”

“Don’t act so greedy!” Jean told her off, wrinkling his freckled nose. “Its un-ladylike. Besides, it’s his money.”

“What do you know about being a lady, kid?!” Lina snapped.

“Now, now, Miss Lina,” Janna said calmly, “There’s nothing to get all bent out of shape about.”

Torrin handed the note over to Filia. “I have no need for this.”

Filia hesitantly took the note from his hands. The amount was more than she could ever spend on herself. “T-Torrin, this is generous, but I can’t…”

“Then give it to the girls,” Torrin suggested. “I understand they sacrifice a lot for their work. This would be a great way to pay them back.”

Filia held the note to her chest. Her heart fluttered as she gazed into his eyes with gratitude. “How can I ever thank you?”

“I know one way.” Torrin put an arm around her waist, cupped her cheek with the other hand, and moved in for the kiss he had been longing for all evening.

Glowing with appreciation for the check he gave her, it took Filia a second to register the warmth of his lips on hers, and by then it was too late to push him away.

She felt Torrin’s tongue encourage her to part her own lips, careful to not be too forceful. Filia gradually complied to his request, putting her arms around Torrin’s neck and kissing him back, albeit awkwardly.

It was obvious to Torrin she was an inexperienced kisser, but he was more than happy to show her, wrapping his arms tighter and deepening the kiss further. He had finally broken through her shyness.

The crowd responded with whistles and ‘Oohs!’ Janna’s voice carried above them, yelling, “Way to go, Miss Filia!” Many people around her burst out laughing.

~~~~~

With the excitement of the tournament dying down, there was not much left to do. The skies were literally talking in thunder rolls, but still not one drop of rain showed itself while the air grew colder.

Filia rubbed her hands on her exposed shoulders as the whole group made their way out of the town square and into a more direct path of the Eastern wind. Samira kindly offered her cape.

Jean decided to take this opportunistic lull in excitement to question Lina. “How do I train to become a sorcerer?”

Lina had almost forgotten about him. She had been eyeing Torrin and Filia ever since they came down from the podium hand in hand, feeling stupid for not seeing what was going on and even a little jealous of the fact that Filia had managed to make the leap she was too scared to take.

She scratched her head nervously, turning her thoughts away to less selfish things. “Well, there are guilds all over the peninsula back home, but I doubt that could be an option for you.”

“Do you know about anyone who trained outside of one?” asked Jean.

“Only a few, but most of them are mediocre,” Lina replied. “The rest were apprenticed.”

Jean thought on this for a moment. “Then, can I be your apprentice?”

“Hell no!” she burst out. “I’ll be leaving in a week and wouldn’t have any time to properly teach you anything!”

“Then I’ll come with you! Please?” he pleaded. It was hard to do so, but this was probably his only chance, so was not going to pass it up by any means, including dealing with Lina’s attitude.

Miranda, of course, immediately objected. “But Jean! What about your mother! She would never let you go!”

“Then how am I supposed to learn?!” Jean cried. “If I always stayed here, then I’ll never become a sorcerer!”

“Alright!” Lina quickly gave in. “I’ll take ya, but only if you can convince your mother.”

A huge grin crossed Jean’s face at her words, and he pumped his fist into the air. “Yes!” He grabbed Miranda’s hand. “Let’s go home and ask her right now!”

“Wait a minute,” Gourry put a hand on his shoulder. “Take this with you.” He handed over his medal to Jean.

“Are you sure?” Jean asked, staring at it.

He tried handing it back, but Gourry pushed it away. “You showed everyone out there what a great fighter you were. Nobody believed you could get as far as you did.”

Looking back over the event of the day, Jean knew there was no way he could have done it on his own. He had almost given up several times, but someone was always there to push him along. Even Miranda’s protests made him more determined to keep going. Yet Gourry wanted to honor his efforts.

Jean’s eyes watered. “Thank you,” he said reverently, then took off running with Miranda in tow.

Gourry then turned to Lina and handed his bag of money. “Here.”

Lina’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “What?”

She began to put her hands out but stopped and looked over to Filia and Torrin who were watching curiously.

She whined to herself. “No, you won it. It’s yours,” she finally said.

“Okay, if you say so,” said Gourry. His voice sounded almost like he was teasing. “I guess I’ll go enjoy a nice meal all by myself.” He deliberately began walking towards the restaurant district.

“Hold on!” Lina charged after him. “I’ll bet you the whole bag I can finish before you!”

“Food is all they think about,” Filia said shaking her head as she turned to Janna. “I have something for you.” She gave her the check. “Split this up with the other girls.”

Janna stared. “Y-you can’t be serious?”

“It was Torrin’s idea,” said Filia.

Janna hugged her tightly, trying not to break down in tears then rushed towards Torrin and threw her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. Samira and Marcus were not left out. Janna was so beside herself she could not think of anything to say and left for home clinging to Marcus’ arm for support.

Samira figured it was time for her to take off as well. “It’s been a wonderful evening, but I must be going.” She hugged Filia and kissed her on the cheeks properly saying goodbye. “I will come by tomorrow.”

“Don’t forget this.” Filia took Samira’s cape off.

“I’ll pick it up later. It’ll be one more reason for me to visit you,” Samira said, smiling. To Torrin she only replied, _“Nár lagaí Rangórt do lámh!”_

Filia curiously watched her walk away as she put the cape back on. “What did she say?”

“May Rangort not weaken your hand,” said Torrin as he stroked Filia’s hair to get her attention. “It’s a blessing you bestow on a fellow warrior.”

They were alone now. Torrin reached under Filia’s cape to encircle her waist and drew her in for more kisses, never minding anyone staring as they passed by.

Filia was still very self-conscious making out in front of other people and gently pulled away. Her face grew hot in spite of the chilly night air and wind gusts causing chaos in the street.

Torrin went after her right ear instead. “Still nervous?” he asked sweetly after a couple of kisses.

“I’m not very good at this,” Filia confessed.

“Takes practice.” His mouth made its way down to her neck.

“I…have to go take care of Val…and I have to get up…early…tomorrow…,” the strength in Filia’s voice failed at the end of her sentence as her breathing grew heavy, and she became very aware of every part of her body Torrin touched.

Torrin ignored her request and continued to work on her neck.

He was so tempted to take it further and bring her home to continue, but there was need for self restraint on his part. He was too used to being with more _experienced_ dragonesses. Filia was barely of age as it was, and he did not want to scare her away. Making that mistake once was more than enough.

When he felt her hands come down to his chest, Torrin pulled himself away and took a deep breath to keep himself calm. “Do you want me to come with you?--To-help…with Val?” He did not want it to sound like he was implying something else.

Filia touched the spot on her neck where he had been kissing her. “It’s okay. I have to go to bed right after I’m done anyway,” she smiled timidly. “People will be picking up their bigger purchases tomorrow, and we’ll need everyone to be there.”

“Alright,” Torrin pulled her into a hug. “I think Gourry’s going to need my help with Lina anyway.”

Filia giggled. There was no telling what Lina was willing to do for money. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Just a second.” Torrin bent down and managed to catch her lips this time. He did not let go of her until he was satisfied. “Goodnight, Tulip.”

“…Goodnight…” Filia breathed. She back out of his arms never taking her eyes of him until she was a few feet away, then turned around and began walking towards her shop.

Her heart was singing.

Filia hurried home navigating the windy streets, trying to beat the storm before her legs collapsed from the happiness running through her entire being. She could not wait for tomorrow to be over and done, so she could spend more time with Torrin. She had a whole week before her visit with Amelia, and it would the perfect beginning to a long-awaited vacation, monsters be damned.

Filia turned the corner onto her street, which was still filled with festival goers despite the weather. Pulling Samira’s cloak tighter around her, she prepared to jog the last few blocks home, but a pair of very strong arms caught her from behind and affectionately pulled her close to a tall, male body.

Surprised but not worried, she exclaimed, laughing, “Torrin! You didn’t have to stalk me! If you wanted to come, you should’ve said something!”

The arms turned Filia around and before she could get a good look at his face in the dim lamplight flickering in the wind, she felt his lips on hers.

Filia gave in and took the kiss further the best she could. It was well received, and the arms slid under the cape and around against her waist to her back, eventually tightening their hold on her. Filia started to slide her arms up his chest to his neck, and noticed for the first time the clothing did not feel anything like Torrin’s. When her hands reached the shoulder, she felt hair brush against her fingers where there should not be any.

Filia stopped the kiss and slowly opened her eyes.

“Well, this is more preferable than being thrown across the room. It’s nice to see a very different side of you, dear Filia.”

Filia’s body seized up, too shocked to move.

Xellos felt her emotions shift to that of pure horror, and her face reflected it. He grinned, waiting to see how long it would take before she found enough sense to wrench herself out of his grasp. Not that he wanted her to, but it would still be fun to watch.

“You…why…” Filia hyperventilated between each word. “It-was-you…you-did-it…how-could-you…”

“I’m flattered! You knew it was me the whole time, didn’t you?” he teased.

Her arms gradually dropped from his shoulders. She took a couple of steps back, but Xellos’ arms only let her move so far. One of her hands clenched into a fist, and she swung, _hard,_ making him stumble a few feet backwards to the ground. Many people stopped and stared.

Xellos always forgot how strong Filia was as she almost never reduced herself to using brute dragon strength anymore, the nightmare incident being a rare exception for obvious reasons. Nonetheless, it was good for him to see he could still get a rise out of her. His last attempt had failed utterly, but it had interesting results he wished to investigate further.

Filia remained where she was, still hyperventilating but in anger now. _“Samira could have been killed! You nearly worked Gourry to death! For no reason! Even for you, that’s lame!”_

Xellos calmly picked himself up and dusted off his pirate hat and costume. “Must I have a reason? And by the way, what if it were someone else attacking them? I think I did your new boyfriend a favor and helped him demonstrate his ability to defend against something he can’t see. That pendent doesn’t guarantee you will never be touched.”

_The pendant?_ Filia took it out from underneath the cloak. _I didn’t see it go off!_

Xellos felt her emotions shift again. Something felt off, but he did not let it show and continued to tease her. “Interesting how you didn’t sense it was me, or were you still thinking of him giving you that hickey when I caught you? You sure were quick to start sucking my face without looking.”

Filia blushed and grabbed her neck. “Y-you started it!”

“And you finished it,” he replied.

At his comment she turned and ran.

Xellos sighed to himself. _Oh dear, I might’ve pushed it a little too far._

He was a little surprised at himself. The way he had been taunting her lately made him sound as if he was a bit jealous. A ridiculous notion of course. He could never be _jealous_ of a dragon, and Filia… She was entertaining…and passionate. She always had been, even when he first met her and could not stand her naïve little view of the world.

Filia certainly had changed, but the passionate side was still there, and had grown along with her.

Today he had a chance to feel something new from her, just when he thought he knew every part of her emotional spectrum he ever wanted to know, or thought could ever exist. Filia’s reaction during their conversation and his advances last night prompted Xellos to watch her carefully throughout the evening, and have some fun while he was at it, until he finally had another chance without anyone else around to interfere. Why exactly he chose to kiss her, he was not sure, but her response completely threw him.

It would have been far more enjoyable, if Filia had not mentioned Torrin’s name.

A new scheme unfolded in his twisted mind as the rain finally released itself from the angry clouds above. _I think I’ll try a different approach._

It was something Xellos had not done in a while and certainly never thought of doing with a dragon before, but that just made it even more appealing. And there was even competition to boot.

~~~~~

Filia did not stop running until she reached her door. She unlocked it and hurried inside just as the first drops of rain fell. All the lights in the shop were put out, but she was able to find her way to the stairs even with her eyes closed. She heard Jillas and Gravos talking in the kitchen washing dishes as she ran up and decided to leave them alone in peace and not burden them with any grievances tonight.

Her head was still racing from what just happened.

Quietly, Filia took off Samira’s cape and left it on a chair by one of the windows before heading to the third floor. All she wanted to do was forget everything and hold Val as he nursed. She turned at the top of the stairs towards her room, thinking she was home free.

Not so.

He found Filia standing in the middle of the hall, tired and very annoyed, and still wearing her ridiculously colorful festival costume.

Xellos thought she never looked better.

The monster took off his hat and bowed. “My dear Filia, must you retire so soon?”

“I think I’ve had enough embarrassment for one evening thank you,” the dragoness huffed and threw the hat down. “Besides, I need to make sure I get enough rest because of Val.”

She tried her best to ignore the fact that she thought Xellos looked rather handsome in his pirate costume. _Strange. I didn’t think that way before when he and I were… don’t think that!_ Filia shook her head blushing.

It was no use because Xellos could feel it as well. He did not often indulge in lust. Anger, fear, and pain were what usually provided him sustenance, but as long as his Mistress did not say a word, he saw no reason to deny himself.

The next moment Filia found herself set against the wall in one graceful swoop, chin tilted up by a gloved hand. The monster placed another kiss on her lips.

Filia’s first reaction was to slap him, but Xellos had thought ahead and had her arms securely locked behind her with his own. Kicking was also out of the question because her legs were locked in place as well. There was nothing she could do.

As soon as Xellos felt her body relax a little he took his hand that was holding Filia’s chin and traced her jaw line down to her ear softly with his fingers then caressed the back of her head. He pulled his mouth away just long enough for Filia to open hers to protest then caught it again in a deeper kiss.

Desire mixed with embarrassment crept up from Filia’s chest. Her feeble attempts to suppress it failed as she slowly lost herself to the kiss.

Xellos relished the emotions the dragoness was experiencing and found himself not wanting to let go as she was becoming quite the turn-on. 

When they finally broke away Filia cautiously opened her eyes feeling a little dazed and more relaxed. The monster’s lips still hovered close to hers.

“Sweet Filia…” Xellos whispered as he used his free hand to caress Filia’s back.

He separated her arms and raised them to her shoulders against the wall while keeping her wrists secure in his grasp. He was only slightly disappointed she wasn’t putting up a fight, so he decided to keep going to see what other buttons he could push with her permission before she resisted, if at all.

He kissed her again with more fervor.

Filia let out a little squeak of surprise at his intensity but remained hesitant on her end. It wasn’t until she heard a small cry from Val’s room a minute later she snapped out of it and tried tugging out of Xellos’ grasp.

Her wrists wouldn’t budge. _What?_

Xellos felt Filia tug on her arms but paid no mind at first because he was confident she could escape if she really wanted, but then a sudden fear struck through him. Curious, he broke the kiss to see what was wrong.

“Let me go!” Filia pleaded. She desperately tugged again with all her strength.

He did what she asked, and she slid down the wall looking at her hands and shaking.

_Oh no._

“Am I missing something?” Xellos looked down at her, utterly confused.

“I’m-I’m fine.” _What should I say?_

The familiar sinking feeling came back, making him feel nauseated. “Don’t lie, Filia.”

Filia didn’t like that humorless worrying tone. It was not like him at all.

She gave herself a few seconds to compose herself before answering. “This is supposed to me normal. It’s just that…I wasn’t prepared for this to be so… _draining._ ”

“May I ask, how is this supposed to be normal?” Xellos inquired.

_I might as well tell him._ Silently apologizing to Torrin, she stood up. “A dragoness mother experiences a severe drain of her magical energy when she nurses her young for the first few years of their life.”

Xellos’ eyebrow arched in mild surprise. “So that’s it. And I thought I knew everything about Dragons.”

Another cry came from Val’s room. “Excuse me.” Filia walked around him and went into the room, quickly shutting the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: The tournament rules mentioned in the earlier chapters were based off of an actual tournament I had the privilege of attending a few years ago one October that gave me an idea to make the festival far more interesting. The big difference is the tournament I went to was done with blunted and padded weapons to allow the participants to actually hit their opponents, causing nothing more than severe bruising, which happened a lot (there was even a teenage girl in full armor who went up against all the guys, getting bruised and everything). And the way they did the roster was different. They did own real weapons since they do reenactments as a full time hobby and were fully capable of using them, just not in contests. The armor, shields and everything else was very authentic, more authentic than even the Renaissance Festival. They did everything with a lot of ceremony, including a big three course feast and holding court with a visiting baron (a new one is named every six months and some are reelected numerous times). These people were also very chivalrous. One of them who I met the June after gave me fifteen dollars to compensate for a brand new butterfly pin I had bought and immediately lost earlier that day at a convention, no questions asked.
> 
> And who says chivalry is dead. I’d go into more detail but it would go on a few more pages.
> 
> Another fun fact: In case any of you were wondering about the pendant Filia is wearing, it’s an invention of my own. I really liked the story of Luke and Milina, and I wanted to incorporate it into my fic as much as possible. The Milgazia traveling with Lina thing also came from this.
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed this story arc. There were many new characters that needed development before we headed off to face Dark Star and his allies, and this festival was the perfect opportunity! Join me in the next story arc for the crew finally getting back together and more fateful encounters!
> 
> _Nár lagaí Dia do lámh!_  
>  May God not weaken your hand!


End file.
